


Wolfe

by Nefsferaatu



Series: KOLBU [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Forced Marriage, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Blow Jobs, Public Claiming, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Rimming, Size Difference, Slavery, Slow Burn, no beta we die like fools
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 65,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefsferaatu/pseuds/Nefsferaatu
Summary: Wolfe's life is ripped from under him when bloodthirsty invaders take his father's fort and hold the entire town to ransom. He was raised a lord, meant to be a man and represent his family's interests at court. Instead, he's gifted as a bride to the giant warrior Rune. Will his new husband be kind and reasonable? Or will Wolfe forever be chattel, a prisoner dressed in finery and fucked without care every night?This story is set in a medieval fantasy world of my own creation. Updates every Tuesday.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Wolfe/Rune
Series: KOLBU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931539
Comments: 296
Kudos: 475





	1. Chapter 1

“By the gods, they’ve taken the gate!” 

Wolfe felt the breath catch in his throat as his father’s second-in-command grabbed him by the arm and began steering him away from the tall window. His father was nowhere to be seen, but his older brother Tomas was still at his station. Wolfe put up enough of a struggle to salve his pride.

“No, Leon, please, I want to fight!”

“No, my lord, it’s too dangerous—”

“I am a man, I can fight!”

A shuddering blow sounded against the thick wooden door to the hall, making the bar jump and creak. 

“Your mother and sisters will need you to protect them— quickly, my lord, to the cellar!”

Wolfe needed no further encouragement. Leon shoved him and Wolfe ran, slipping on the cold stone floor, gripping his sword tight in his hand. Behind him, he heard the splintering of wood and the cries of warriors. Metal rang out against metal as he rounded a corner. The din of battle had only just begun to recede when he heard another, far more chilling sound.

“Unhand her, you brutes!”

“Mother!” 

Wolfe redoubled his pace and ran headlong into a wide, barrelled chest clad in thick leather armour. He gasped and tried to jump back but strong hands loomed from all sides. His sword hand grabbed and twisted, another fist in his hair and a blade at his throat made him go still and pale. There were only two Murkuri but, much as he claimed manhood, he was young and slight, barely a gnat against the hulking forms of his enemies. Behind them, his mother and sisters cowered, dragged from the escape cellar and up into the hallway.

“What’s this?” the Murkuri pulling his hair sneered. “Another daughter? Why weren’t you in with the ladies, pretty girl?”

Wolfe pursed his lips, unable to meet the warrior’s eye.

“I’m not a girl!” he squeaked. “Unhand my sisters!”

A raucous chuckle met his quivering demand, and his stomach lurched as he felt a rough hand on his waist.

“Looks like a girl to me,” the other Murkuri murmured. “Sounds like one too. I wonder if he rides like one?”

Wolfe froze in shock as the hand on his waist moved to cup his arse. Tears stung his eyes and he tried to lash out, only to have his arm twisted and wrenched up behind his back, making him cry out in pain.

“Let him go! Please! Oh—”

Wolfe tried to hold back his tears as his mother cried and begged, trying to at least keep his dignity as the hand on his arse grew more insistent. He bit his lip as he felt a finger press against his hole through the cloth.

“Enough.”

The deep baritone cut through every noise around them. Wolfe could no longer even hear the cries of warriors from the hall. Much to his relief, the men molesting him froze at the command as well. A dark-haired man almost a full head taller than any other and twice as broad stepped into his line of sight, eyeing the Murkuri warriors with an unreadable expression.

“These are the nobles,” the man continued. “Disarm them, bind them, but then bring them to Kolbu in the hall. Unviolated.”

Wolfe trembled as the man’s coal black eyes settled briefly on him. He could tell by the way every other warrior in the hallway moved and shuffled to avoid him that not only was he some sort of commander, but a feared one too. The man reached out towards him and he flinched. A tear bounced from his eye at the movement, but the man’s rough thumb caught it before it could slide down his cheek. Wolfe found himself staring in horror up into the man’s cold dark eyes. 

“Plenty of time for that later if the lord will not cooperate,” the giant man added, then grinned and let his gaze travel down to where Wolfe’s heart beat hard and fast in his neck. A nervous chuckle met his words from the warriors, and a second later there was a dull thud on the stone floor. The giant glanced over his shoulder to where Wolfe’s mother lay in a dead faint. “Get her up. Kolbu is waiting.”

Wolfe didn’t resist as warriors pulled his wrists together behind his back and bound him with cord. The warriors herded him, his sisters and the servants who had been escaping with them back the way Wolfe had run minutes earlier. The dark-haired giant slung his mother over his shoulder and followed, ignoring her weak protests as she began to wake.

In the hall, a dozen bodies, Murkuri and Elbiyan alike, lay still and bloodied. Wolfe’s father and two older brothers were bound and on their knees, along with Leon and a few other Elbiyan warriors. The mood among the captured soured further as they caught sight of Wolfe and his sisters. 

At the head of the hall, another dark-haired giant, this one with eyes of piercing blue, lounged in the lord’s chair.

“Rune!” the man called. “Well done. A fine haul, don’t you agree?”

The man who’d halted Wolfe’s molestation deposited his mother with surprising care, then straightened and grinned.

“Indeed, Kolbu,” he agreed. “Tryg and Bethilde are rounding up the commoners.”

The man lounging in the lord’s chair — Kolbu, it seemed — chuckled, then clapped his hands together and stood up with a speed and vigour that Wolfe hadn’t expected from one so big.

“Excellent!” He took a few steps, his braid flicking behind him with his movements, then stopped and surveyed his captives, a grin still plastered across his face. “Now, which one of you is the lord? Hmm?” 

Wolfe felt a prickle of rage and shame when Kolbu didn’t even spare him a glance, his icy eyes resting instead on Leon, his brothers and his father. 

“I am Lord Rowan Almary,” Wolfe’s father said stiffly. “I presume you are the murdering heathen who’s been plundering my villages these past few weeks?”

The Murkuri gave a lewd murmur, and Kolbu grinned.

“You are correct,” he told the lord. “I am Kolbu Kariklif, though I believe most in Elbiya know me as Kolbu the Tempest. I made sure to sign myself as such when I sent you the ransom for us to leave your villages be some weeks ago. Did you not receive it?”

“I do not negotiate with bandits!” 

Lord Rowan flushed bright red as he spoke, raising his voice until it echoed in the rafters. Kolbu barely flinched. 

“I guessed as much, given we found our messenger in your dungeons,” the giant replied. His voice took on a soft, dangerous quality that made the hairs on the back of Wolfe’s neck stand up. “In light of that… misunderstanding… we have decided to double our demands.”

Wolfe paled, glad that that cold, hard gaze was not on him. The Murkuri had offered to stop pillaging barns and temples in exchange for a town to call their own through the winter. They had given a list of townships they would accept, all with strong strategic advantages for assaulting other, bigger towns on the path to the capital. Wolfe remembered watching his father throw the bearded messenger into a cell with a pit in his stomach, and he found it returned now in full.

“If I would not give you one town, what makes you think I would give you two?” Lord Rowan scoffed. 

“Oh, we will still take just the one town,” Kolbu told him. “But, in the weeks since my message, I have learned more about your customs. I think you will be quite pleased at what I have decided.”

Lord Rowan was by now red enough that he looked like he might burst a blood vessel. Everyone else in the hall, Elbiyan and Murkuri alike, watched and listened in silence. The tension was so thick Wolfe worried his mother might faint again. In the absence of an answer, Kolbu merely smiled and continued.

“I have learned that you rank your nobles among themselves,” he began. “And that you loan out your land to others for profit. And,” he paused and grinned, and Wolfe had never been so terrified in his life, “that you are fond of passing property and influence among one another by way of marriage.”

A frightened murmur rippled through Wolfe’s sisters and their servants. His mother was pale and tight-lipped, her spine as stiff and straight as an arrow. 

“Preposterous. Only sons may inherit. Unless you intend to give me a Murkuri daughter?” Lord Rowan scoffed. Kolbu still just smiled.

“Ah, yes. I know of that custom too.” The Murkuri grinned again, though Wolfe just now noticed it never reached his eyes. They were always cold and hungry. “But, as we are not Elbiyans, we have our own customs in that regard.”

Wolfe was certain he was about to throw up. By his father’s side, his two older brothers were looking a little worse for wear as well, their eyes flickering at the warriors ringed around the hall. There was no question which party they would be in such a union. Wolfe felt the pit in his stomach shift suddenly, the blood pounding in his head, and he was vomiting before he knew it. The warrior by his side jumped back to avoid getting it on his boots, then dealt him a ringing backhand.

“Adunn!” Rune hissed, and the warrior backed off. Wolfe coughed and spluttered. Sick soaked into the front of his tunic and, thankfully, hid the wet patch he hadn’t clenched enough to prevent at the blow. Around him the Murkuri made noises of disgust. 

“Go clean him up,” Kolbu ordered. “Take the women and lock them in a room, and have the servants prepare us a feast. We can discuss the terms of Lord Arl-mah-rie’s surrender over a good meal and their finest ale.”

Wolfe trembled, his stomach still roiling.  _ Please, _ he begged silently.  _ Please, anyone but… _

He didn’t even manage to finish the prayer before the exact man he was hoping to ward away grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him to his feet. He stifled a frightened cry as he was dragged away.

“Which way?” Rune barked once they’d left the hall. Wolfe tried to rally his thoughts and quiet his thundering heartbeat. Before he could find the words, though, the giant gave him a shake. “Which way, boy? To your room?”

“Th-that way!” Wolfe gasped, jerking his head. Rune gave a disgruntled snort and began pushing him along in front of him. Wolfe stumbled, his knees going weak, but he didn’t dare stop walking.

His room was empty and silent. It seemed to him that a heavy air of foreboding hung in the air, stifling and thick. Rune gave him a final shove and closed the door behind them. For a moment, all Wolfe could do was shudder and cower, too afraid to breathe wrong lest it be met with violence. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Rune’s large, rough hand rested on his shoulder.

“Oh gods, please, no, I beg of you, mercy, please, please…” His cries descended swiftly into snivelling sobs, his whole body shaking.

“Quiet, boy,” Rune ordered, though it held none of the fire he’d displayed earlier. “Where do you keep your clothes?”

Wolfe wiped his nose on his sleeve and pointed with his bound hands. Rune steered him over to the chest and kicked it open. A bundle of tunics, braies, stockings and undershirts in a variety of colours met their eyes.

“I… I’ll need to change all of it,” Wolfe whispered. 

His face felt like it might actually combust and it was hard to bite back tears of shame. Rune watched him with a guarded expression for several seconds, then nodded. Wolfe breathed a sigh of relief that he made no comment. 

The next second, though, he was crying and trying to squirm away as Rune reached under his tunic and released his braies. He tried to kick out but the burly warrior batted his legs away like they were nothing. Rune stripped his undergarments away and pushed him towards the bed, holding him in place when he stumbled and fell on his back.

Wolfe screwed his eyes shut, trying not to wail, anticipating the worst. After a few seconds, he heard water trickle against metal and opened his eyes to see Rune pouring water into his washbowl from the jug. He watched in terrified silence as the giant man dipped his washcloth in the bowl, wrung it out and sat beside him on the bed. It was impossible not to jump when the cold cloth touched his inner thigh, but Wolfe found himself grateful to get the piss off despite his fear.

“You’ve not been in many battles, have you?” Rune asked. Wolfe shook his head. “Any before this one?”

“No.” Wolfe shook his head again, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m supposed to learn courtly skills. My brothers are the warriors.”

“Mm.” Rune rinsed the washcloth, then turned back to his task. As he moved higher up Wolfe’s thigh the young lord found himself breathless. His heart had calmed at the realisation that he was not about to be raped — or at least, not right now — but it rabbited in his chest as Rune’s careful movements brought him closer and closer to Wolfe’s cock. “So you would go to the royal court? Why are you not already there?”

“I-I… uhh…” Wolfe swallowed the lump in his throat as Rune lifted his cock and dabbed at the sensitive skin. The giant’s hands felt strange and warm, but not as awful as the lord had expected. “I need to be married. I-I… I need leverage… t-to…”

Wolfe suddenly realised Rune was smiling faintly as he struggled with his words. He blushed, self-conscious, and Rune gave a soft exhale. 

When he was finished washing him, Rune dropped the cloth back by the washbowl and stood up. Wolfe let him untie him, then peeled his vomit-stained tunic off and tossed it at the wash basket. He could feel Rune’s eyes on his naked body as he rummaged through his clothes. The scrutiny made him hurry, nervous of what might transpire if the Murkuri had too long to stare. He hadn’t forgotten the wicked hunger in those deep, dark eyes when he’d first been captured.

“Ready?” Rune asked as he fastened his belt. Wolfe nodded and held out his hands to be bound again, but Rune waved him away. 

“Kolbu didn’t say to bind you again, and I believe you’ll be feasting.” 

Wolfe nodded and cast his gaze to the floor as Rune took him once more by the arm and led him out of the room. He could hear the sounds of warriors eating, drinking, talking and laughing from the hall, but even from a distance he could tell it was tense. He glanced once more at Rune as they reached the doorway, then took a breath and steeled himself for whatever horrors he might find ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfe is claimed and faces a fate he can barely stomach.

Kolbu still sat in the lord’s chair, one leg dangling jauntily over the arm. Rune led Wolfe to a spare seat between two large, mean-looking Murkuri before finding his own place among the warriors. The Murkuri laughed and sang while Lord Rowan, Leon, and Wolfe’s older brothers sat with drawn faces and stiff limbs among them. The eldest, Petar, glared at the warriors around him, while Tomas focused steadfastly on his food. 

Wolfe tried to eat but found himself jostled every time he raised his fork, only realising it was deliberate the fourth or fifth time it happened. He scowled and opened his mouth to say something. The warriors glared at him, sending a shudder of fear down his spine, and he thought better of it.

He and his family were seated around the top of the long table, close enough to overhear Kolbu as he talked with his generals. Wolfe understood absolutely none of it. The Murkuri had swept through the land from the south just over a year previous, somehow partially fluent in Elbiyan and with enough knowledge of the land to survive winter and sieges. Even now, the Elbiyan defences were left reeling from every encounter. 

Wolfe abandoned his attempts to eat in favour of seeking out Rune. The giant was not at the table, instead seated along the wall with a group of other warriors. It took Wolfe a few minutes to realise some of the warriors were women. They were unlike any women he had ever seen, and something about seeing them in war paint and armour disturbed him. He tried not to stare.

“This is outrageous.”

Rowan’s voice was low and hoarse, but it succeeded in drawing the attention of the entire room. Wolfe stared at his father with terrified eyes, silently begging him not to enrage the warriors, but the older man ploughed on.

“I will not be made a mockery of in my own hall!”

A couple of the Murkuri gave the lord ugly glares, but Kolbu seemed unconcerned, almost bored.

“Are you not enjoying the feast, my lord?” The Murkuri ripped some flesh off a chicken leg and chewed, eyeing Lord Rowan. “I think it’s quite fun.”

“You bastard,” Rowan sputtered. “How— how  _ dare _ you—”

“Do not speak to him like that.”

Wolfe trembled as Rune’s voice cut across his father’s, unmistakable threat lacing his tone. Lord Rowan blanched and fell silent but his expression was furious.

“No, Rune, that’s alright,” Kolbu said. “Perhaps we have misunderstood their customs. I thought it was polite to feast before discussing business, but clearly I was mistaken.”

Tomas and Wolfe shot worried looks at their father simultaneously. Their older brother was already wed, but Tomas was only betrothed and Wolfe had not yet begun courting. There was no question that one or both of them would be lost if Kolbu made good on his threat to take a bride.

“We have no business,” Lord Rowan spat. “I will not give you a town, nor will I let you wed one of my sons.”

“I have no intention of wedding,” Kolbu told him. “But I will have that town. And there are more than enough eligible bachelors here to wed in my place.”

Wolfe could tell that he was right. Many of the Murkuri had cast not-so-subtle glances at him and his brothers throughout the meal, and now he saw a few grin and mutter to their companions.

“In our culture, there is no sex outside of marriage.” Wolfe blinked at his own daring, startled to hear his own voice even though he was the one speaking. “How many of your warriors will lay with only one person for the rest of their lives?”

The hall fell silent. Wolfe blushed right to his roots, uncomfortable as every eye at the feast turned on him. His question had the desired effect though; the warriors who had previously looked so interested now turned wary. Wolfe noticed Rune staring at him with a strange expression and tried to ignore the squirmy feeling in his stomach at the scrutiny.

From the head of the table, Kolbu sighed, then looked around at his warriors.

“Are there any here who would agree to such terms?”

Wolfe knew Rune was about to step forward even before the giant moved. The young lord’s mouth twitched in a miserable pout and he closed his eyes briefly for strength.

Rune was not the only one who agreed, though. Five other warriors raised their hands. Kolbu grinned and shot Wolfe a victorious smirk.

“Well, it seems we have a surplus,” Kolbu announced. “Three of you will have to sleep alone a while longer, it seems.”

“Five will,” Petar spoke up. “I am already married, and my brother Tomas is betrothed. We cannot break a contract that is already made.”

Wolfe glared at his brother. How hard would it have been to lie and say he and Tomas were  _ both _ engaged? But then he saw the green tinge around Petar’s skin, and the way he trembled even as he sat still. Wolfe was nineteen, Tomas twenty and Petar twenty-one. His older brothers always seemed like adults to him but in that moment he realised exactly how little a year or two counted. He tried not to be angry as Kolbu smiled, then looked directly at him. 

“So you are unwed and not betrothed, then?” he clarified. Wolfe grit his teeth and nodded agreement. “Well then, it seems simple to me. Any of those six who would marry you can decide amongst themselves. If they cannot agree, we will decide by combat.”

“I won’t allow it!” Lord Rowan roared. “My son is not to be bartered off like chattel to one of your filthy savages.”

The Murkuri warriors roared back, and Wolfe suddenly found himself dragged from his seat. He cried out and kicked against his assailants. In between the warriors, Wolfe spotted his father getting punched in the face, Petar and Tomas held at knifepoint while Petar protested. 

“You will give him to my warriors, and you will give Shaywood as a wedding gift to his husband,” Kolbu declared over the din. “Fetch one of their priests, we will have the ceremony as soon as we decide who takes him.”

“No!” Wolfe screamed. “No, please, please, you can’t—”

One of the warriors holding him slammed a hand over his mouth, jolting his lips into his teeth and silencing him. Miserable, terrified tears rolled down his face as he sobbed and breathed heavily through his nose. The warrior holding him stank of alcohol and smoke, the strong body far too close and hot against his back. Another warrior stepped forwards and blocked his view of his family. He froze when the man drew a blade and held it to his throat.

“There is another option, Kolbu,” the warrior called. “We could just kill every one of them and take this town for ourselves.”

“Do not deny me my bride,” Rune barked. 

A semblance of order restored to the hall, Lord Rowan holding his bloodied head and Wolfe’s brothers pressed down over the table. A couple of the men who’d stood to claim Wolfe grumbled at Rune’s proclamation and stepped away, but two remained. Rune eyed them thoughtfully.

“To the square, then,” Kolbu said. “Bring the bride along. Best she see what her future husband is capable of.”

Wolfe flushed red at being referred to like that, sobbing harder, but the warriors holding him paid it no mind. They dragged him out of the hall along with a large chunk of the warriors present. Wolfe caught sight of Rune towering above one of his competitors up ahead, then spotted Leon being dragged along too. He couldn’t see either of his brothers or his father. 

Rune and the other two contenders for Wolfe’s hand in marriage made their way to the centre of the crowd and other warriors moved back to give them space. Rune drew a blade almost as tall as Wolfe, the other two drawing blades of their own, then they turned to look back at Kolbu. The giant leader came to a stop close to Wolfe, and the young lord saw his father being held by two warriors on Kolbu’s other side.

“All at once, I think,” Kolbu decided. “When you’re ready.”

Quick as a flash, Rune was beset by both warriors. Wolfe was no soldier but he could see the logic in it. Rune was taller and broader than both of his opponents, so if they took him out first then they could have a better chance one-on-one against each other. For a moment it looked like Rune would be eliminated before he could even fight back.

The smallest of the three lunged in and tried to land a blow at Rune’s knees. A well-timed step left the attacker stumbling, but the other was stepping in to distract him while the first recovered. Wolfe found himself praying that Rune would come out the victor if only for how unfair it was for the other two to gang up on him. Then he caught himself. Really he should be praying all three murdered each other and somehow took apart the entire Murkuri force along with them!

“If you had a choice, little lord, who would it be?”

Wolfe turned dark, frightened eyes on Kolbu, who was eyeing him carefully.

“I will not marry willingly,” he shot back, trying not to tremble. Kolbu grinned.

“Good,” he said. “I don’t think any of those three would want you to.”

Wolfe’s stomach twisted in knots at the implications of that phrase, trying not to be sick again as he turned his attention back to the fight just in time to see Rune disarm the medium-sized man and toss his sword away. The man yielded before Rune could hurt him. 

Wary now, the other circled, trying to stay out of range of Rune’s blade. But with his towering stature Rune’s reach was further than the smaller man’s, and in keeping away he could not get close enough to strike. The gathered crowd soon began jeering.

“Skriev!” Kolbu roared. “Is this cowardice? Make your move or yield!”

The smaller man scowled, almost brave enough to attack, but Rune got in quicker. Skriev only just managed to dodge a blow that would have bisected him through the middle, and the next second he was dropping his weapon, arms out. Rune gave a vicious chuckle and Skriev flinched, but then he grinned. 

“As I expected,” Kolbu murmured. “It seems he is to be a lord, then. I hope that will make your husband easier to be married to.”

Wolfe was barely listening. Rune’s dark gaze swept over him, alight with victory and leaving him in no doubt that theirs would be what was known as a fruitful marriage. Not that Wolfe could even look forward to children, he suddenly realised, no matter how much seed Rune decided to sow in him. He averted his gaze and tried not to break down in tears.

“To the victor the prize!” Kolbu shouted. “This is a long time coming, Rune. You have truly earned your place among my generals.”

Wolfe shuddered as the Murkuri around him whooped. He could tell by how Rune grinned and accepted congratulations that there was some Murkuri event at play, though he could not fathom what. 

“Where is the priest?” Rune roared. A vicious laugh sounded from one of the Murkuri, and a few looked around. Rune scowled. “Very well. With your leave, Kolbu, you may find me once you have the priest. I must become acquainted with my bride.”

Wolfe outright screamed as Rune began striding towards him. The man was huge. One way or another, Wolfe would be helpless against him. Kolbu chuckled and muttered something in Murkuri to Rune as the giant swept Wolfe up, then Rune replied and Kolbu gave a wicked chuckle. No amount of kicking and screaming got him free as Rune began making his way back towards the hall. Some of the Murkuri crowding around to slap their comrade on the back or leer at the frightened boy over his shoulder. Wolfe cringed away from them but their taunts still found their mark.

Far too fast and soon, the warriors around them peeled away in the hall, and Rune was striding with him back towards his bedroom. Wolfe struggled so hard he thought he might pass out.

“P-p-please, n-no, p-please…” he cried. Tears streaked his face and he couldn’t help how he begged and shook. “I must b-be a virgin! I-I m-m-ust b-be…”

Rune scoffed as he kicked open the door. Wolfe tried beating his palms against the giant, so frightened he could barely raise his fists, but then he was deposited on the bed and he curled in on himself instinctively.

“Don’t fight me, bride,” Rune ordered.

“I am not your bride!” Wolfe shrieked. “You cannot f-fuck me, we are not wed!”

Suddenly, Rune’s face was pressed almost against Wolfe’s, his dark eyes impenetrable as he surveyed the young lord before him. Wolfe knew in that moment that if he hadn’t already pissed himself, he would have right then. His breath caught in his chest as he froze.

“We can’t,” he gasped. “Not yet, please, n-not yet.”

“I know.” Rune didn’t move away. “You still have a little while.”

Wolfe dissolved into tears again as Rune sat back, resting his huge, rough hand on Wolfe’s waist. The lord squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself not to try and wriggle away.

“What is your name?”

Wolfe hiccupped when he opened his mouth to reply, his gaze darting to Rune’s face. The giant seemed peaceful, a stark contrast to his aggression out in the square. It almost made Wolfe calmer, but the whole situation was too surreal to respond normally to.

“Wolfe,” he finally squeaked, then burst into tears once more. 

His whole body felt like it was about to unravel with fear. His skin prickled all over and his ribcage felt hollow and weak. If not for Rune’s hand on his waist, steadying him, he was sure he would’ve come apart at the seams.

“Hm. Wolfe. Like the dog?” 

Wolfe stared up at Rune wide-eyed, too fear-addled to understand the question. The Murkuri surveyed him impassively for a moment.

“Do you know what Kolbu said to me before I brought you in here?”

Wolfe shook his head, dreading what Rune might say next.

“He said ‘be cruel to his father.’ And I intend to carry out that order. But,” Rune tilted his head slightly. “I need not be cruel to you.”

Rune fell silent and Wolfe tried to gather his panicked thoughts. He didn’t quite know what Rune was getting at, but at least he wasn’t being stripped and brutalised. It took him far longer than he was proud of to try and inch away from Rune’s heavy hand on him, testing to see how far the giant would let him stray. Rune watched him with a strange expression as he took shaky breaths and slowly moved out from the Murkuri’s grasp. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. His voice sounded weak and small even to his own ears, and he couldn’t help how he flinched as Rune shifted to get more comfortable on the bed. The giant shrugged.

“I am taking you as my wife,” he said. “I do not wish to live with a sulking hag.”

“I won’t let you take me without a fight!” Wolfe hated how his voice wobbled, shame washing over him, but he did his best to stare down the brute currently threatening his virginity. Rune sighed.

“Very well, then,” he agreed. “It was worth a shot.”

Just as he reached out and grabbed Wolfe by the leg, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. Wolfe wriggled away as Rune growled and looked up to see the nature of the disturbance. Kolbu stood in the doorway, a man Wolfe recognised as one of the lesser priests cowering beside him.

“We must wait.” Kolbu shoved the priest forwards. “Tell them what you told me.”

The man looked to be in shock, but to his credit he collected himself quickly. He cast a nervous glance between Rune and Kolbu, then chose to focus on Wolfe.

“There are many rites which must be performed to make the marriage legal,” he said, stumbling over his words. “Usually they are spread out over some months—”

“Months?!” Rune stood so fast the priest almost tripped over his own feet trying to get away. Wolfe huddled into the bed, trying not to get his hopes up. After all, if Rune couldn’t wed him, there was a high chance the Murkuri would instead just slaughter every man, woman and child in town rather than wait it out.

“But! If we strip down the rites to only those strictly required, it can be sooner! Much, much sooner!” 

Wolfe’s heart sank.

“But not today?” Rune sounded angry. “Are you saying I must wait?”

“O-only for a little while.” The priest swallowed again. “About… uhh… two weeks? But the lord must be a virgin at the time of marriage, if he is to be the… uhh…”

Kolbu smirked as the priest trailed off awkwardly, but Rune nodded, his face serious.

“That could be good though,” Kolbu began. “He has lived all his life as a man. It might take him some time to grow accustomed to being a woman.”

“I’m not a woman!” Wolfe choked on sobs, unsure why he was arguing his gender when there were bigger issues at stake. Kolbu cocked his head, raised his eyebrows and pointed at him as though to say “see?” to Rune. Rune made a sort of grumbling, sighing sound, then nodded. Kolbu grinned. Wolfe hated the malicious glee that lit his face.

“Excellent,” Kolbu cried. “I shall have someone find him some pretty dresses, and by the time you are wed, he will be the perfect little wife for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a side-story to my original m/m comic [KOLBU](https://nefsferaatu.com), set shortly after the events of the comic. To get updates on it, follow me on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/nefsferaatu).


	3. Chapter 3

Wolfe couldn’t stop crying as Kolbu left the room, dragging the priest with him. Rune sat impassively on his bed. The giant didn’t make any move to attack him, but nor did he reach out in comfort. Not that Wolfe particularly wanted him to. He had only two weeks before the warrior would take him by force, and Wolfe knew by the faint but unmistakable screams that filtered in from outside through the window that such an event was likely to be painful beyond belief. All he could do was curl into a miserable ball around his pillow and pray Rune chose to stick to the custom of waiting until they were wed to fuck him.

At first he felt as though his tears would never end. The depths of his fear and distress felt endless. But Rune’s silent form on the bed beside him made him anxious, and he found himself forcing in deep breaths to calm down before too long. He risked a peek up at the man who was to be his husband and found him staring at the wall, unconcerned and peaceful. Rune glanced at him, making the lord bury his face once more, but his tears had abated. 

“If you’re finished crying, we will go now to choose your dresses, if they’ve found some,” Rune said at length. 

Wolfe sat up on the bed and scowled to try and mask his horror at the thought of being paraded around in women’s clothes on this brute’s arm. Rune met his gaze with amusement. For some reason that more than anything chilled Wolfe to the bone. Anger could be fought, but if the giant warrior didn’t even register him as worthy of fighting, the struggle to save himself would be that much harder. Exhaustion hit Wolfe in the chest like a physical blow and he had to force himself not to wilt.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset at me,” the giant said. “We can do nothing but respond to your father. He should have just given us the town.”

“You really expect him to sacrifice his honour like that?” Wolfe snapped.

“There is no dishonour in admitting defeat,” Rune shot back. “I would say there is more dishonour in having your child taken as a bride against their will.”

Wolfe glared at Rune through tears, shrinking away when the warrior reached out to grab him by the arm. There was little he could do to resist, though, and he found himself pulled across the bed. His body trembled uncontrollably.

“Y-you cannot fuck me!” he insisted, and Rune rolled his eyes, holding Wolfe still with a vice-like grip on his arm.

“Cannot fuck you, must be cruel, must dress you in women’s clothes,” the warrior grumbled. “This wedding is already more hassle than it’s worth.”

“Then don’t!”

“And let some other warrior take you? No.” Rune narrowed his eyes. “I have worked too hard for a seat at Kolbu’s table.”

“And I will be your pretty bauble, is that it?” 

Rune surveyed him for a moment. Wolfe squirmed, wishing the giant would stop squeezing his arm.

“You will be wed either way, to me or to another. Time to make your peace with that.”

Wolfe opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came. The warrior was right. He hated it but either he would be wed to a Murkuri or killed. The odds of anything or anyone swooping in to save him were slim to none. All the fight left him in a sudden rush as the hopelessness of his situation hit him and he sagged in Rune’s grasp.

“You don’t have to be cruel,” he tried. “And you don’t have to fuck me, even after we’re wed.”

Rune gave him a long look, and Wolfe suddenly realised how tired the warrior seemed. Not tired enough to be easier to get free from, perhaps, but the sort of tired that Wolfe knew could make people unpredictable. 

“If you fight me, I will crush you,” Rune told him. “And I will fuck you once we’re wed either way.”

The giant’s tone brooked no argument, nor was there much Wolfe could do about his decisions. For all intents and purposes, he was just as much a prisoner as his mother and sisters locked and guarded in their rooms. 

Rune’s grip relaxed on Wolfe’s arm but he forced himself to stay close. He’d been too panicked to pull it apart earlier but Rune had offered to be kind. Wolfe had no idea what that looked like in practice. By his own standards it might still be immeasurably more cruel than he could tolerate. But it was still something. If he could regain his nerve, he might be able to bide his time in relative safety until he could find a way to escape. And if Rune was insisting on fucking him, that meant he had  _ something _ the giant wanted, at least. 

“I don’t want you to crush me,” Wolfe said. 

Rune didn’t reply. Instead he brought his hand up slowly, watching Wolfe for his reaction. Wolfe trembled but forced himself not to shy away. The giant warrior stroked a soft line over Wolfe’s cheek with his thumb. It was gentle but, with how highly strung Wolfe felt, it was far too much, sending electric jolts through his skin. He met Rune’s gaze with tears in his eyes.

“Let’s go find you some dresses.”

Walking with Rune felt strange. They had to pass through crowds of Murkuri, many of whom took it upon themselves to congratulate Rune and comment on his prize. Wolfe hated every second of it. For one thing, many of the warriors leered openly at him. Even aside from that they stood too close, though in truth anything closer than a different country would have felt unpleasant. 

And then one warrior seemed about to touch him. Wolfe froze as the man stepped in closer, commenting on his soft-looking lips, and made as though to raise his hand. He felt sure he was about to be violated in some way. There was nothing he could do. With so many of them around, armed and already beginning to drink, fighting back would have been a death sentence. Wolfe braced himself to fight through his revulsion.

And then he felt Rune’s heavy hand on his shoulder. He jumped and whipped his head around to stare at the warrior, unsure. But Rune merely drew him in closer. The other warrior stopped their advance as Rune said something in Murkuri to him. 

Wolfe curled instinctively into Rune’s side, his breath coming hard and fast. The warrior gave him a squeeze but continued talking as though nothing had transpired. It was hard not to relax into the warrior’s side and accept what was probably the most comfort Wolfe could hope for from his soon-to-be husband.

After a minute or two, they moved on, until a woman about the same height as Wolfe but somehow infinitely more intimidating flagged them down. Rune greeted her as Bethilde.

“We have found some dresses,” she gloated. “This way.”

Wolfe suppressed a shudder as Rune led him along after Bethilde. They stopped outside a stall selling second-hand clothes, the owner nowhere to be seen. Wolfe hadn’t seen a single Elbiyan except the priest and his immediate family since the Murkuri had broken through. He didn’t think there was enough blood in the streets that they had slaughtered everyone, but it was hard to judge.

Bethilde stopped by the section of the table with women’s clothing and gave a happy grin. Rune shoved Wolfe gently with his hand to take a look.

“I can’t wear these!”

Rune sighed, gripping him by the back of the neck and forcing him forwards.

“No! Listen.” Wolfe reached up in vain to try and pry Rune’s fingers off his neck. “These are commoner clothes! Please, don’t make me go around dressed like a chambermaid, please… I… I am a lord…”

He ran out of steam abruptly as he realised he had little choice in the matter. 

Much to his surprise, Rune stopped. Wolfe tried not to squirm at the giant’s grip on his neck as Bethilde frowned and poked at the clothes.

“Where do noble ladies get their dresses then?” she asked. “I can’t tell the difference, honestly. Rune?”

“No, it all looks the same to me,” Rune agreed.

“It’s not,” Wolfe whined. “See, that’s wool. Nobles wear linen chemises. And the outer layers should be without stains and patches.”

Rune leaned in and gave a huff. Bethilde shrugged.

“It is to humiliate him, no?” she mused. “So maybe commoner clothes are best.”

“If he were not to be my wife, I would agree,” Rune said. 

Wolfe shuddered at the reminder but still let a little hope light his heart. He racked his brains for memories of his mother and sisters purchasing new clothing, then realised he knew.

“We have a tailor who makes all our clothes,” he said. “He makes clothes for the men, and his wife for the women. If they’re not dead then you should ask them.”

Rune huffed again, but then he gave a grunt of acknowledgement and relaxed his grip on Wolfe’s neck. Wolfe managed not to take a step away from the giant at being released. 

“I’ll go ask around,” Bethilde offered. “You should take him back to his rooms. You might not be able to fuck him, but there’s plenty else to do with him until then.”

“True.”

Wolfe turned frightened eyes on Rune once more, but instead of a leering smirk greeting him, Rune was simply looking. He jerked his head and Wolfe followed him back towards the hall.

“What did that woman mean?” Wolfe found himself asking as they walked through the corridors towards his room. “What are you going to do to me?”

Rune shot him a strange look, then chuckled. The sound sent the hairs rising all over Wolfe’s body. 

“You really are a virgin, then,” he commented. “You’ll see. Nothing painful, I promise.”

That did little to reassure him, but Wolfe tried his best not to cringe as they reached his room and Rune closed the door behind them.

“On the bed,” the warrior ordered. “On your back.”

Tears gathered in Wolfe’s eyes as he stood frozen. He knew fighting would be pointless, but he couldn’t bring himself to be a participant in his own violation either. 

After a moment, Rune crowded in closer to him, making him flinch and start to cry.

“Please, just… what are you going to do?” he begged. 

Rune took him by the shoulders and began to drag him towards the bed. Against his better instincts, Wolfe jerked in his arms, wishing there was anything he could do to divert the inevitable. 

He curled in on himself once more as Rune deposited him on the mattress, shaking. The giant climbed on next to him and tried to unroll him.

“No!” Wolfe shrieked. “Please, don’t! Please!”

After trying for a few minutes, Rune sighed. He lay down next to Wolfe and put a hand on his hip.

“You are very loud,” the warrior said. “And yet you barely say anything.”

“What do you expect me to say?” Wolfe hissed. “You don’t care about anything, just fucking me and killing my people.”

Rune scoffed.

“I care about a great deal more than that,” he replied. “I asked you your name, didn’t I?”

Wolfe gave a bitter laugh and wriggled away from the giant on the bed, but a second later he found himself pinned. His stomach churned and he swallowed harshly to try and shift the fear in his chest.

“Are you going to fight me then?” Rune asked. “I may not be able to fuck you yet, but if you give me too much trouble, I have no issue tying you naked to this bed and taking my pleasure from your body in other ways.”

For a second Wolfe’s entire body went rigid, but then all his energy left him with a rush. He went limp under Rune’s massive form and sniffled, tears wetting his cheeks.

“Please, I’m so tired,” he begged. “I… my body, it’s… please…”

Rune shifted so as to wipe his cheeks with his thumb. Wolfe shuddered with fear as the giant’s thumb traced his jaw, drawing fresh tears from him.

“Fear is like that,” Rune said. “You are making this so much harder on yourself than it needs to be, too.”

“I don’t want to be raped.” Wolfe closed his eyes for strength, trying to ignore the immovable weight on top of him. “I don’t want to be hurt.”

“Then just do as I want!”

Wolfe gasped at the intensity and frustration in Rune's voice. It wasn’t angry, but it was dominant enough to send shivers down his spine and make him whimper. Rune tutted. He shifted again, leaning his forearm across Wolfe’s shoulders to pin him down, one leg over his hips, and let his other hand rub over Wolfe’s chest.

“Does that hurt?” Rune asked.

Wolfe sobbed and shook his head. If anything, it felt far better than he was comfortable with, sending warm flurries through his veins and making his cheeks heat up. Rune pulled his hand higher. The firm pressure made Wolfe’s breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t move away, immobilised by Rune’s bulk. The giant’s fingers found the hem of his collar and he let one thick finger slip beneath it to touch Wolfe’s neck.

“How about that?”

Wolfe shook his head again. Rune’s tone had moved from frustrated to something darker, lower, huskier, that made the young lord’s inside clench and melt in waves. He opened his eyes and found the warrior watching where his finger vanished beneath cloth with lust in his gaze. The intensity of it sent warmth straight to Wolfe’s core, followed swiftly by confusion, then shame. If Rune didn’t stop soon, Wolfe didn’t know what might happen, nor did he want to find out. He gave a weak struggle.

“Please,” he whispered. “Let me rest.”

For a few minutes it seemed Rune hadn’t heard him, still exploring the bare skin just below Wolfe’s collar with his fingers. Wolfe tried to keep his breathing steady and not think about the feelings the warm touch evoked in him.

“Alright. Take off your clothes, and you can sleep in my arms.”

Wolfe blanched at the suggestion. He opened his mouth to protest, but something in Rune expression stopped him. 

“Don’t… don’t do anything to me while I’m asleep,” Wolfe said. 

Rune chuckled and removed his arm and leg from Wolfe’s body, rolling so that he was on his back beside the frightened lord.

“I will only hold you, and perhaps touch you a little,” the giant replied. “But nothing beyond that.”

That was better than Wolfe was expecting, if he was honest with himself. He got to shaking knees and forced himself to pull off his belt and tunic. He was absolutely not going to sleep fully nude. He was determined about that. His chemise underneath almost came off as well, but he separated the layers and kept it on to preserve at least a little modesty. Not like Rune hadn’t seen it all already, nor would he be able to hold him off for long, but it was something, at least. 

Rune raised an eyebrow at him.

“You sleep like that?” he asked.

“Yes.” Wolfe jutted his chin out indignantly, acting far braver than he felt. "Every night.”

“In your shoes and leggings as well?”

The lord flushed and bit his lip, scowling at the warrior, not quite brave enough to snap back at him. He reached up under his chemise to release the stockings from the buttons on his braies and kicked them off along with his shoes. His entire body felt hollow and weak. 

Rune appraised him in his undergarments with a small smile, then kicked off his boots and began removing his armour. Wolfe tried not to steal glances as the disrobing revealed thick, defined muscles under a rough linen shirt. He told himself he was just surprised that such an unruly savage would think to disrobe before sleeping. 

Rune pulled back the covers and patted the bed beside himself. Wolfe took a steadying breath and moved to join him, letting the giant pull him down and tucking his legs under the blankets. He could feel Rune's heart beating beneath his cheek as he settled on the giant’s chest. 

Given the threat of being touched while he slept, Wolfe expected not to sleep at all, to simply earn a short reprieve from his future husband’s attention. But the warmth seeping out of Rune’s body and the deep, earthy scent of him had a strangely calming effect on Wolfe. Rune wrapped his arm around the lord and pulled the blankets up over them both.

“Please don’t touch me while I sleep,” the young lord tried. His eyelids were already growing heavy.

“You just focus on resting,” Rune told him. “When you wake, hopefully we will have your tailor.”

Wolfe gave a miserable sob but had quickly learned begging had little effect on the Murkuri. He fought sleep as long as he could, then didn’t even notice himself drifting off, Rune’s strong fingers tracing patterns on his shoulder.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Wolfe woke with a jolt to the sound of low, male voices in his room. Rune’s arm tightened around him as he began to struggle in his waking confusion. He had no sense of how long he might have slept, even after he remembered the sorry state of affairs he and his family were subjected to. 

Forcing himself to relax back into Rune’s thick chest, he let his gaze flicker over the room. Kolbu was seated in a chair pulled out from his desk. He had no regard for propriety, one leg flung over the narrow back of the chair and the other splayed out, his elbows resting on the desk behind him and his head cocked to one side. Wolfe flushed when he realised the warlord’s piercing blue gaze was travelling over his barely-clad form. He wanted to find his clothes, but he suspected Rune would insist he stay in his underwear, so he just huddled further beneath the blankets. 

By the warlord’s side, Wolfe recognised his tailor, Bertrand. The man looked as terrified as Wolfe felt. His face was a little bruised around his left eye, his usually tidy mop of ginger hair looked ruffled, and his watery blue eyes held the vague, distant look Wolfe was quickly learning meant he was in shock. He stared at Wolfe without blinking for far too long.

“Now that he is awake,” Kolbu said in Elbiyan. “You can make him some dresses. And a wedding dress.”

Bertrand shot Wolfe a startled glance, then looked at Kolbu. Wolfe knew in an instant what the problem was. Bertrand was a fine tailor, but he had very little experience with women’s clothing. In order to measure them, people must undress, and for a noble lady to be disrobed in front of a man other than her husband was improper in the extreme. Hence, Betrand’s wife was in charge of women’s attire. 

But Bertrand seemed unable to explain that. The pasty man opened and closed his mouth several times, looking between Kolbu, Rune and Wolfe.

“He can’t,” Wolfe told the warriors. “He doesn’t know how.”

Rune sighed and gripped Wolfe tighter around the waist, pulling him flush against his broad body. Wolfe suppressed a squeak 

“Are you playing tricks with us, bride?” he asked. “You said you required your tailor. This is your tailor.”

“Yes, and I also said that he makes men’s clothes, and his wife deals with the women’s,” Wolfe retorted. “He only knows how to make what I was wearing before.”

Rune narrowed his eyes, and Wolfe gulped, expecting punishment. But then Rune sighed and his expression shifted to less hostile.

“You did say that,” he admitted. 

Across the room, Kolbu spoke in Murkuri, his tone lilting and playful. Rune grumbled but then answered in a wry voice and both men chuckled. Bertrand cast Kolbu a frightened look.

“Go with one of my warriors to fetch your wife then, tailor,” Kolbu instructed. “And have her bring suitable fabric. Your lord will not leave this room until he’s as pretty as a maid in summer.”

Wolfe glowered at Kolbu at that, his mind turning over what Rune had said earlier and deciding that Kolbu was to blame for his predicament. The giant stared cooly back. 

“Tryg,” he called, his eyes not leaving Wolfe, and then gave an order in Murkuri. 

A tall, brown-haired warrior with sharp green eyes entered and escorted Bertrand away. Wolfe squirmed under the intensity of Kolbu’s stare. He glanced up at Rune, only to find the other warrior watching him closely.

“Rune was telling me while you were asleep,” Kolbu began. “That you are already refusing to perform your wifely duties for him.”

As he spoke, Kolbu rose from the chair and paced over to the bed. The way he positioned himself as he came to a halt meant that Wolfe had Rune on one side and Kolbu blocking him in on the other. Kolbu sat lightly on the edge of the bed as Wolfe tried not to panic at the sudden claustrophobia. 

“I have not refused him anything,” Wolfe replied. “My people’s customs refuse him anything… intimate… until we are wed.”

Rune chuckled and said something in Murkuri to Kolbu. Wolfe shifted slightly to try and meet Kolbu’s intense stare more directly. 

“Clever thing, aren’t you.” Kolbu smirked, then rested his hand lightly on the bed, far closer to Wolfe’s leg than was proper. “Will you share him after you are wed, Rune?”

“I will not be shared!” Wolfe spoke before Rune could, a note of shrill terror in his voice.

“I have not yet decided,” Rune said, answering Kolbu as though Wolfe hadn’t spoken. Rune switched to Murkuri as Wolfe tried not to burst into tears again. His mind conjured images of being stripped naked and passed around as endless Murkuri sank their cocks into his vulnerable hole as the two spoke. Heat blossomed beneath his skin, coiling in his belly, and he couldn’t shake the thoughts until the two warriors’ attention was back on him. 

“For what it’s worth,” Kolbu said. “I think you will look very attractive in women’s clothes.”

Wolfe’s lower lip trembled slightly, but he had sat through enough trying encounters and etiquette lessons that he still managed a stiff “thank you” before pulling his knees up to his chin, bringing the covers with him. The increased coverage barely made a dint on how intimidated he felt by the two warriors flanking him. Rune’s arm around him was far too tempting to burrow into. Wolfe forced himself to stay rigid, resolutely looking at the empty bed in front of him.

He caught sight of Kolbu and Rune exchanging a glance over his head and felt his guts churn again. No doubt they’d been discussing lewd things concerning him, in their dreadful, barbarous language. 

Before either of them could speak again, there was a knock on the door, then it opened with a bang. The tailor’s wife, Gwynaforth, was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide, but she was quickly overtaken by the last person Wolfe had expected to see.

“Mother?” he whispered, aghast.

“My lady Cerise, please—” Gwynaforth began, but Wolfe’s mother shushed her with a flick of her fingers.

“I hear my son is to be wed.” Wolfe could tell his mother was terrified by the slight tremor in her voice and her too-wide eyes, but he couldn’t help but admire her determination. “And in a gown, no less.”

Kolbu and Rune exchanged a look, then nodded.

“Well. Traditionally, that is a mother’s domain. I must oversee the preparations.”

“You have traditions for sons getting married in gowns?” Kolbu quipped. Cerise flushed slightly, but held firm.

“Not sons, perhaps,” she admitted. “But weddings are a woman’s realm. I… I demand you hand it over to me.”

Kolbu chuckled and reached over Wolfe to clap Rune on the knee, muttering something in Murkuri, before rising off the bed.

“With the groom’s permission.” Kolbu stalked over to the door, pausing before he left. “I look forward to the ceremony.”

Rune gave a soft sigh, eyeing the tailor, Lady Cerise and Wolfe with a look approaching boredom. Wolfe held his breath, hoping he was not about to witness a violent outburst at his mother’s outspokenness. 

“I have no interest in organising an Elbiyan wedding,” Rune said at length. “But that does not mean you can do as you please.”

Cerise swallowed hard, but then she nodded. She clicked her fingers and Gwynaforth hurried in, her tools in her work belt, two slaves following behind with bolts of velvet, silk, fine linen and satin in dazzling shades of blue, red, yellow and green. Wolfe had to suppress a wave of shame and sadness at the sight of them. 

“Can I speak to my mother, please?” he asked of Rune in a quiet voice. “Alone?”

“Not alone,” Rune replied. “But I will sit here for a few minutes, and you may speak to her over there.”

Wolfe nodded, too eager to find some comfort in his mother’s arms to push for more, then slipped off the bed and pattered over to her. She cast a wild-eyed look at Rune, then pulled Wolfe into a tight hug.

“My baby,” she murmured into his hair. “What have they done to you?”

It was odd being held like that by his mother, and in his underwear no less, but all that took a back seat to the immediate relief he felt. 

“I’m alright, Mother,” he told her. “They… they haven’t… I’m alright.”

Pulling back, Cerise took a moment to search his face, as though not quite believing until she’d verified for herself. Wolfe tried not to let the fear and anxiety of the past few hours show as she examined him. 

“How are Elowen and Margaid?” he asked.

“They’re alright,” Cerise told him. “Shaken, but… unharmed. And… your father? Petar, Tomas?”

“They’re... “ Wolfe realised how long it must have been since he saw them. “Last I saw, they were unharmed. And Leon. Father is angry. He… Kolbu said he ignored their messenger, and that’s why they’re here.”

A strange look passed over his mothers face at those words. He wanted — no, expected her to deny it, to assure him that the Murkuri’s arrival, and thus his current doom, were beyond their control. But instead she just stared at him for a moment. Her deep, dark eyes flickered towards Rune. Then, as though deciding, Cerise gave a quick nod, then turned to Gwynaforth and the slaves. Wolfe wanted to press her on her strange pause, but he could feel Rune’s eyes burning holes in his back so he kept quiet.

“If my son is to be forced to dress as a woman,” she said. “Then be sure he’s in only the finest.”

Gwynaforth nodded, then got to work. Wolfe expected Rune to come and weigh in on their choices, but instead the warrior sat on the bed, watching. Wolfe faced away from him and tried his best to forget he was there. 

At first the soft fabrics and fuller drapes were a source of shame, but at some point Wolfe found himself more curious than upset. The velvet brushed heavy over his waist and shoulders. Silk, though something he was accustomed to wearing at formal occasions, kissed his bare shoulders were it overtook his chemise. The softness of the satin sent shivers down his spine. 

By the time his mother was tucking an errant strand of his dark hair behind his ear and surveying the framework of the third dress, he was almost enjoying it.

“You’ll need to borrow some of my jewels,” Cerise said. “For as long as these brutes insist on mocking us, we shall face their torment with our best. Hmm?”

Wolfe felt like a child again at his mother’s tone, but he nodded dutifully. Better to be a child than an unwilling bride.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Let me see,” Rune said, making Wolfe jump. 

Wolfe’s face felt like it was on fire as he took a breath and turned on the spot. The raw edge of his skirt dragged on the floor, wrapping closer to his legs and hips. He didn’t quite dare meet Rune’s eye when he came to a halt. The burly warrior rose from the bed and took a few steps towards him, giving a low whistle.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “I suppose I can put up with your nonsense if you look like this all the time.”

Wolfe pursed his lips as Rune lifted his hand, raising his chin before the giant could do it for him. He blinked back tears as Rune let his gaze rove openly over the contours of his body.

“Do you have any paint for his face as well?”

Cerise let out a soft gasp, and Wolfe didn’t need to look at her to know she found the request as upsetting as he did.

“I’m sure we can find some,” she replied stiffly. “He’s got the same colouring as me. He can use mine, if we can’t find any elsewhere.”

“He does,” Rune agreed. “Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin… I am glad he takes after his mother.”

Cerise stiffened by Wolfe’s side, her hand twitching once, as though she wanted to slap the warrior that stood before her. But she didn’t. Instead she sniffed and turned to Gwynaforth.

“How soon can you have them finished?” she asked.

“We need one as soon as possible,” Rune interjected, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on the Elbiyans. “Tonight, if possible.”

“I-I’ll have at least one done a-as soon as possible, m’lord,” Gwynaforth squeaked.

“Good.” Rune smiled, pleasant and unconcerned. “In that case, I believe you are done here. Let your guard know when you’re done.”

“Oh… so soon,” Cerise stuttered. “I had hoped to spend a little more time—”

“No.”

Wolfe cringed at the finality in Rune’s tone. He wasn't harsh, just firm, but the denial in that single syllable stung. Gwynaforth began unpinning the fabric as Cerise hovered beside her son. She pulled him into another hug before she left and Wolfe was dismayed to feel her shaking. He made sure to give her a smile as she followed Gwynaforth out of the room, leaving him alone, in his underwear, with a giant Murkuri warrior who had made no secret of how badly he wanted to fuck him.


	5. Chapter 5

Wolfe stood silently, facing away from Rune, as the sound of the women’s footfalls grew fainter and fainter beyond the door. He was keenly aware of both the fact that he was in his underwear and Rune’s intense gaze on his back. The silence between them stretched until Wolfe thought his heart might burst. Then the bed creaked and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Easy, bride,” Rune said. “I’m just getting comfortable. Come and join me.”

Wolfe pursed his lips to stop them quivering as he forced himself to obey. He wished he knew what to expect, but so far Rune was proving far too unpredictable to anticipate. The giant watched him make his way over in silence. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” Wolfe whispered as he reached the bed. 

“If you get on the bed, I will not hurt you,” Rune replied. “I promise.”

Wolfe blinked back tears as he leaned in and climbed onto the bed. He so badly wanted to believe Rune, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Rune raised his hand and Wolfe flinched.

“Easy,” Rune repeated. “I will not hurt you.”

The giant reached out and placed a firm hand on Wolfe’s shoulder. Wolfe shuddered, sobs rising in his chest as tears of shock, fear and anxiety began to slide down his cheeks. Rune put gentle pressure on his shoulder until he gave in and let the warrior draw him in. Wolfe settled as best he could next to Rune, his focus entirely on how the warrior’s arm felt resting on his waist. He didn’t dare look up and see what might be on Rune's face. 

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked through his tears. 

“You know what I’m going to do,” Rune told him. “You’ve rested, you’ve been fitted. I’m going to get to know you a little better. I am eager to learn who my wife really is.”

Wolfe blanched at the reminder of his role in their unwilling union, then froze as Rune’s hand rested on his bare knee. His braies came to mid-thigh, mostly concealed by his chemise, but he might as well have been stark naked as Rune began to draw his hand up the inside of his thigh. Wolfe took a shaky gasp, pushing aside the myriad emotions the warrior’s touch evoked in him.

“M-most people get to know each other by talking,” he squeaked. “Wh-what if I want to get to know you as well?”

“Mmm. And what are you going to say?” Rune mused. “Probably just ‘please stop!’ and ‘you can’t do this to me!’ and other such nonsense.”

“I won’t.” Wolfe suppressed a fearful noise as Rune’s fingers found the crease between his leg and his hip. “W-we can talk about anything you like, and I’ll talk, I’ll say more than that, I promise.”

“Hmm.” Rune’s hand stilled as he considered it. “Very well. Talk to me, then.”

“U-uhh… okay. What would you like to know?”

“I thought you had questions for me.”

“Right. Um… g-give me a moment, I-I need to…” 

Wolfe closed his eyes. Rune’s hand had retreated to his mid-thigh, marginally less distracting than deep in his crotch, but there was still plenty that added to his shock and trepidation. Perhaps asking would ease his mind… but then again, perhaps it would only solidify his dread. Still, with nothing else coming to mind, he decided it was still better than being touched so intimately by a dangerous stranger.

“What did you mean before,” he began. “When you said you’d waited too long for a seat with Kolbu?”

Rune was silent for a moment, then he removed his hand from Wolfe’s braies, giving him a brief reprieve, before taking him firmly by the waist and dragging him into his lap. Wolfe went stiff until he was deposited, fighting the urge to shift and get comfortable. No doubt doing that would rub Rune in some areas Wolfe wasn’t eager to stimulate.

“Get comfortable,” Rune told him. “If we’re talking about that sort of thing, we might be here a while.”

Wolfe swallowed, nerves fluttering in his stomach. He wriggled a tiny amount, just to say that he had, then tried to ignore the way Rune’s arm rested across his lap.

“Kolbu and I were born in the same village, in Murku,” Rune told him. “Our mothers were slaves of the same man. An opportunity came, when we were young, and either of us could have taken it. But we were friends. Our mothers were friends. And Kolbu’s mother was falling from favour with our master. So, I let him take it. I never regretted it. But there is no denying my choice is the reason it is him out there dealing with your father right now and not me. We had a deal, when we were children. I have waited since then for him to be in a position to repay it.”

Wolfe sat quietly as he absorbed the information. If anything it raised more questions than it answered, but it was a start. One detail stood out more than the rest though.

“So I am to marry a slave.” 

Wolfe didn’t care that his voice cracked over his words. He was no prince, but he’d been raised to marry up, and the prospects his father would have had to consider for his betrothal would have been far different. 

“I have not been a slave by my people’s standards since that day.” Rune chuckled, making Wolfe cringe. “Not that I expect that to matter much here. I know things are different in Elbiya.”

“Who knows that you are a slave?” Wolfe hated himself for how much he fixated on that fact, given the broader issues Rune’s story had brought to his attention, but he couldn’t help it.

“No one,” Rune told him. “Because I am not one anymore. In fact, with our marriage, I will be a warlord almost on par with Kolbu. And he is expected to become king once his mother dies or retires, gods willing.”

Wolfe gave a sad, frustrated sigh. What Rune was saying made no sense. If he was born a slave, he must still be a slave, or else he would not be allowed a weapon. Freedmen could not be armed with blades, and only mercenary slaves could fight in wars. And the young lord couldn’t even begin to pull apart whatever he was saying about Kolbu and his mother.

“Is it so strange to you?” Rune asked. 

“I… I’m not even sure what constitutes strange anymore,” Wolfe confessed. Rune chuckled. His arm tightened around Wolfe’s waist.

“Then lay your head on my shoulder, and ask me another question,” he said.

Wolfe frowned, reluctant, but reminded himself of the alternative and managed to force himself to comply. Rune’s muscles were surprisingly comfortable. If only it could stay like this, Wolfe thought, it might not be so intolerable, even with the added humiliation of being married to a slave.

He sidestepped the thoughts about the more terrifying aspects of his situation by thinking of another question.

“Why did you step up to claim me?” Wolfe felt himself heating up, anticipating something lewd, so he qualified the question. “I might be wrong, but I got the impression before that you weren’t entirely happy with it either.”

“I am happy enough about it,” Rune replied. “I don’t have much hope that we will wed in bliss, but, as I said, Kolbu has long owed me the same help I gave to him.”

“But surely he could render the favour owed in some other why,” Wolfe insisted. “So why this? Why now?”

Rune fixed Wolfe with a mustering stare. Wolfe managed not to tremble too much or look away, instead waiting for his answer. After a second, Rune pursed his lips and shrugged. 

“When I saw who else put themselves forward, I felt I had to,” he said. “You were so scared earlier that you threw up. None of the others would have given you quarter. Forget remaining a virgin until the wedding, you would right now be spread open for a dozen or more warriors.”

Wolfe’s stomach shifted at his words. 

“But… Kolbu and the priest said…”

“Kolbu would still have ordered you preserved,” Rune agreed. “But there are precious few who would respect such an order. By their estimation, if you are claimed then you are claimed. No sense in waiting.”

“Barbaric.” Wolfe shuddered. “Your future king can’t even keep his own soldiers under control.”

“You have not seen your own warriors after a battle,” Rune retorted. “Plunder is not limited to one people or another. I have seen it. Here and in other lands, one thing you can be sure of is that the worst carnage is wrought when the battle is over.”

Wolfe didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t imagine Elbiyan knights, in their gleaming armour and fighting under the guidance of the gods, ever taking an enemy by force or plundering in the manner Rune described, but nor had he any experience of his own to refute it with. He shifted on Rune’s lap to get more comfortable, only realising afterwards that he’d wanted to avoid that earlier.

“So that’s it then?” he asked. “Pity and a repaid favour?”

“Yes.” Rune paused, then smirked. “And I have never wanted to fuck an Elbiyan as much as I want to fuck you.”

Deep flush rose in Wolfe’s cheeks, despite knowing Rune would likely say something along those lines. He stiffened his jaw before responding.

“So your sympathy extends only far enough that you wish to be the one hurting me, then?”

He met Rune’s eye squarely, trying not to let the tears gathering along his lashes shame him. 

“It won’t hurt if you don’t fight me while I do it,” Rune told him. 

“You’re going to put… your _cock_ … _inside_ my…” Wolfe gulped. He couldn’t even finish the sentence. “How do you expect that won’t hurt, no matter how I react?”

Rune sighed and adjusted his grip on Wolfe’s waist. 

“There are ways,” he said at length. “I am familiar with them. I won’t hurt you if you don’t fight.”

Still wholly unconvinced, Wolfe, once again, had no experience to draw upon to rebut Rune’s claim. He so desperately hoped he was telling the truth. If it didn’t make him bleed, it would be so much more endurable. He need only close his eyes and ignore Rune’s massive form on top of him. 

“I have a question for you, bride,” Rune said, interrupting Wolfe’s train of thought. “What do you want our life together to look like?”

Wolfe blinked, surprised. He hadn’t even thought of what his future might look like beyond the next couple of weeks. In his thoughts, the world began, ended and revolved around the horrifying moment he would be forced to spread his legs and make their union official. The event itself had no form in his mind beyond deep darkness and dread. 

But even aside from that, he hadn’t expected Rune to care. He’d expected to be tormented until the novelty of his tears wore off and then locked in a room and forgotten about. If he was lucky, he might be allowed some books and maybe a servant or two. He didn’t dare hope that Rune’s question meant his options would be broader than that.

“I… I don’t know.” His voice was tight and quiet. “I haven’t had time to think about it. Um… what… what do you want it to look like?”

Rune made a contemplative noise and brought one of his hands up from Wolfe’s waist to rest on his shoulder. In the relative safety of their conversation, Wolfe found he didn’t mind it. It was still uncomfortable being touched at all by a stranger but it was far from the fear-riddled, nausea-inducing touch of when he was being washed.

“I’d like us to be friends,” Rune said at length. “Or at least get along. I will crush you if need be, but I’d prefer not to.”

“Kolbu said all the men who stepped forward to claim me would want me to fight them.”. 

“Did he now?”

“He did.”

“Hm. Perhaps you should ask him what he meant by that over dinner.”

“Mmm.”

Wolfe thought that nothing in the world could convince him to challenge the words of the warlord who had orchestrated his family’s defeat to his face, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Rune. Whether it was the foreignness of them or just that he was in shock, he couldn’t fathom how any of the Murkuri might react to anything. 

“How did it feel in the dresses?”

Wolfe blinked up at Rune, momentarily at a loss, then he managed to pull himself together and shrugged. His mother had said not to let them see how he suffered. But, beyond that, he’d been surprised at how little shame he felt. He could only hope that would last in public as well.

“They’re just clothes,” he said. “Same as my tunic. It was nice not to be in my underwear.”

As he spoke, he let his gaze wander to where his clothes lay in a heap by the bed. Rune chuckled.

“You don’t like feeling so vulnerable, hm?” 

Wolfe nodded.

“I can fix that. Here, move for a minute.”

As soon as Wolfe was on the bed, Rune reached for the hem of his own rough shirt and pulled it over his head. Wolfe made a strangled sound as rippling muscles and scarred skin came into view, tan lines dark at his neck and wrists. Then Rune stood and reached for his belt.

“Stop!” Wolfe sputtered. “You… you can’t—”

“For the last time, I will not fuck you before the wedding.”

“No! I mean, yes, that. But I was going to say you can’t undress here.”

“Pfft. Why not?”

“Because, it’s not…” Wolfe struggled for the right words as Rune surveyed him with frustration. “It’s not proper. It would be better if I got dressed, and you stayed dressed.”

“But I don’t want you to get dressed.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Wolfe scowled and crawled across the bed to reach for Rune’s wrists. “But I need to get dressed. It’s not proper.”

“Perhaps not in Elbiya.” Rune released his belt but made no move to put his shirt on. “In Murku, we’d spend the weeks leading up to the wedding naked together, alone. To make sure we were compatible.”

Wolfe took a shaky breath at the thought of so long nude with the giant warrior. Looking at his half-naked body was already making him feel strange. No matter where he looked, he found his gaze drawn back to the broad, defined muscles of his chest and stomach. It was so different to the subtle dips and softness of Wolfe’s own body. In a way it reminded him of the long hours he spent as a child watching the soldiers train, until he’d been scolded for staring and moved to another room for tutoring. The shame of his tutor’s rebuke still burned in his chest so many years later.

“Please put your shirt back on,” Wolfe begged.

“I will put my shirt back on.” Rune’s hands moved too quick for Wolfe to react, switching their positions and taking him by the wrists. “If you will spend a few minutes touching me.”

“T-touching..? Why?”

“Because it will feel good to me.” Rune paused and tilted his head, considering. “Besides, you don’t want your first experience of my body to be on our wedding night, do you? All at once, no time to adjust?”

Wolfe swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and tried not to twitch. Rune’s grip was firm but not painful, and nor was he dragging Wolfe towards him by force. The places where their skin met was warm and inviting. Wolfe took a steadying breath, then nodded.

“Alright. I’ll… you’re right, I don’t want it to… take me by surprise.”

Rune smiled and loosened his grip. He ran his fingers lightly up Wolfe’s arms, shifting the sleeves of his chemise and making goosebumps rise all over his body. As Wolfe raised trembling hands to Rune’s chest, the warrior let his own hands move to Wolfe’s shoulders, then down his sides. Sparks of intense heat coursed through him. The only thing that distracted him was when his palms rested lightly on Rune’s shoulders, mind whirling at the supple movements of muscle under his fingers. 

“That’s it,” Rune said. “Start with my arms, if that’s easiest for you.”

Wolfe wasn’t listening. Once he was touching Rune, it was all he could think about. He smoothed his hands over the warrior’s shoulders, then retraced his path across his collarbone before his hands guided themselves lower of their own accord. The stark difference of his slender, honey-toned hands and the darker barrelled chest beneath them was mesmerising. He got lost in the confusing pleasure of exploring Rune’s body for several minutes, until he realised with a jolt that his cock was stirring in his braies. Flushing red, he was about to pull away when a loud knock on the door startled him.

Rune smirked as Wolfe clutched his own shoulders, self-conscious, then grabbed his shirt.

“W-who is it?” Wolfe called as the warrior covered himself.

“It’s Gwynaforth, my lord. I… I have the first dress.”


	6. Chapter 6

Wolfe scrambled off the bed and smoothed out his chemise, hoping his semi-hard cock would not be too obvious. Rune gave him a smug look as Wolfe adjusted himself. Outwardly, Wolfe glared at him, but he found warmth blooming in his chest at the satisfaction in Rune’s gaze.

“Enter,” Wolfe called once he was confident he would not shame himself.

The door opened after a moment, revealing the tailor’s wife and her precious delivery. Wolfe was impressed despite himself. Even under duress and with an insane time constraint, Gwynaforth had produced a gown that took Wolfe’s breath away. It was simple and modest, with only a couple of flowers stitched in cream and gold thread at the sleeves and hem, but its smooth, moss green length was stunning. It had a wide, scooped neck, the sleeves loose all the way down and the waist just fitted enough to be flattering without being lewd. A slave behind Gwynaforth bore a twisted cloth girdle and a sheer veil.

“Beautiful,” Rune murmured. 

“It is exquisite, Gwynaforth,” Wolfe agreed. “You’ve done marvelously.”

The tailor’s wife blushed and smiled, though her gaze remained nervous. Wolfe stepped forward and shot Rune a look, grateful when the giant seemed to get it. He sat back on the bed and remained silent as Wolfe examined the dress more closely. It was silk in a satin weave, soft and glossy on the outer side. The cream embroidery was silk thread as well. All in all, it was a little plain compared to some Wolfe had observed but by no means a pauper’s dress. He could see one of his unwed sisters wearing such a dress to the temple or on a carefree day at leisure.

“It’s perfect,” Wolfe said. “Help me put it on.”

Gwynaforth and the slave gave curtseys and did as he bid, instructing him when to lift his arms and how to stand as they fitted it over his head and arranged the waist under the girdle.

“Your mother wishes to attend you as well, my lord,” Gwynaforth told him in an undertone as they worked. “She has jewels and paint to complete the style.”

Wolfe nodded and turned to Rune. The giant was watching with hooded eyes, quiet but obviously interested. Wolfe suppressed a shiver of anticipation at what the lust in Rune’s eyes promised for later.

“Can I send for my mother as well?” he asked. “She has much to teach me, and not a lot of time in which to do so.”

Rune dragged his gaze away from the soft swish of Wolfe’s dress and up to his face, then nodded.

“I will send Tryg and Bethilde to fetch her for you.” 

He rose from the bed and left, leaving the door ajar. In the brief minutes of his absence, Gwynaforth gave a stifled sob.

“How are you truly, my lord?” she whispered. 

Wolfe tried not to respond to the fear in her voice, instead smoothing his hands over the satiny fabric on his hips. The ripple of pleasure that ran through him at the gesture was something he would have to investigate later. 

“Things are bleak,” he told Gwynaforth at length. “But this is my duty as a lord. To protect my people, by any means necessary. If the Murkuri are focused on me and the upcoming nuptials, they are less likely to seek entertainment elsewhere in the town. It will not be pleasant. But I do prefer it to the alternative.”

As the slave fixed the girdle in place around Wolfe’s waist, he considered her question more.

“Besides,” he continued. “Of all the horrors I assumed would be visited upon me, Rune has defied expectation thus far. I do not know how long that will continue, but for now, it seems I am safe, for the most part.”

“But… my lord, you were in your underwear…”

“I was,” Wolfe confirmed. “But I was never without it. He was… lecherous, but not abusive. I can tolerate it.”

Gwynaforth swallowed a lump in her throat, but didn’t press for more. It occurred to Wolfe out of nowhere that perhaps his experience was not so different from what a woman’s might be in the weeks leading up to her arranged marriage. 

True, no priest in the land would allow the bride and groom to remain alone together in a room with the bride in her underwear. Nor would the parents of either party be content to allow the groom to watch the bride be fitted for clothes. But the trepidation, the suddenness, the overwhelming sense that his destiny was no longer his own… all of a sudden, he was much more interested in being taught the ways of women by his mother. With some luck she would have some advice on coping.

He had the sense Gwynaforth might speak again, but heavy footfalls signaled Rune’s return and she pressed her mouth in a thin line. The slave stepped forward with the veil and the two women attempted to pin it in place. After several tries, though, it became clear it would not sit.

“I-I’m sorry, my lord, but your hair is too short for the pins,” the tailor’s wife squeaked.

As she spoke, Cerise arrived, followed by her handmaid. The handmaid carried two chests, one large and the other smaller and balancing on the larger one. Wolfe recognised them as boxes from his mother’s room, but it had been so long since he was in there, he didn’t know what might be in them.

“Wolfe, my darling,” Cerise said. “You look… gorgeous. How’s the fit?”

“It’s good, I think. But I don’t have much idea how it should fit.”

Cerise stepped forward and plucked at the fabric, her expert fingers shifting and smoothing over his shoulders and across his collarbone.

“It’s hard to tell, as you have no… bosom… but it seems to fit well.”

“I think it fits perfectly.”

Everyone blinked and stared at Rune, who was still watching from the bed. His comment reminded Wolfe of the full extent of the situation, casting a nervous haze over the group.

Cerise gave a sniff, then turned to her slave and opened the smaller box. Inside it were jewels and beads. Wolfe recognised most of them, though the circlet she pulled from the back was unknown to him.

“My mother gave this to me when I was a maid,” she told him. “I’d forgotten it, but I think it will suit you.”

As she spoke, Wolfe’s mother arranged the veil on his head and then slipped the circlet over the top. It settled snugly around his temples. The sheer fabric rested lightly on his shoulders, encasing him in shimmering cream. 

“Lovely,” Cerise murmured. “Now hold still while I apply the paint.”

Wolfe sat patiently as his mother used soft sable brushes on his lips, around his eyes and over his cheeks. If he ignored the sticky pigments being applied, the effect was quite relaxing. He was smiling by the time his mother finished.

“Can I see?” he asked.

The slave rummaged through the chest, searching for a mirror. Wolfe found himself enjoying how the dress and veil covered him, the feeling of cosmetic paint drying on his skin. It felt liberating somehow. 

The slave found the mirror and held it up for him. Wolfe blinked at himself for a moment, unable to reconcile the face before him with his own. The mercury metal was clear enough that he would have readily believed he was looking at one of his sisters. Then his own features became apparent, but unlike he had ever seen himself before. 

His usually large brown eyes looked enormous, his cheekbones somehow softer and more defined at the same time, and his full lips were plump and pink. The whole effect was alarmingly alluring.

“It’s… uhh…” Wolfe swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “You have great skill, Mother. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Cerise replied. “Now, you must apply this beeswax over your lips at intervals, otherwise the paint will crack them open. You can keep it on your girdle. Remember especially after eating and drinking.”

So saying, Cerise pulled a round wooden box small enough to fit in Wolfe’s palm from her chest of paints. She showed him how the top slid and rotated to reveal its contents, then attached it to his girdle with a thin strip of cloth through an eyelet on its edge. 

“You will also need scent,” Cerise told him. “You can choose one you like from among mine.”

“Should I not be the one to choose it, since I will be the most likely to sniff him?” Rune interjected from the bed.

Wolfe shot his mother a nervous glance, but her attention was on Rune. Her back was stiff and straight. Her eyes were wide with fear, but her lips compressed into a determined line.

“No.” 

Her voice was tight and short, barely a whisper, but she held Rune’s gaze for a moment after speaking. Then, a little too quickly, she turned back to Wolfe. Her movements were a little jittery as she arranged her perfumes for Wolfe to examine, but other than that she gave no outward sign of her inner state.

Wolfe chanced a glance at Rune and was shocked to find him wearing a delighted grin. The lord’s stomach lurched, Kolbu’s claim that Rune liked his prisoners to fight him ringing in his ears. He didn’t know what he should do if Rune retaliated.

But, much to his surprise, Rune did nothing. The warrior stayed seated on the bed, lapsing to silence once more as Wolfe took careful whiffs of various sweet and spicy fragrances from his mother’s collection.

“I think I like this one,” he decided. “It smells a little like a field after rain. It’s lovely.”

“Very well.” Cerise took him by the wrist and dabbed a couple of drops onto his fingertips. “Apply it on your neck and wrists, that way the scent will spread evenly.”

Wolfe did as she instructed and enjoyed the delicate scent as it wafted around him. The vial had an eyelet similar to the wooden box, so he threaded another strip of cloth through it and let it hang beside the beeswax.

“How long until the evening meal?” Cerise asked her slave.

“Not long, m’lady,” the girl replied. “Before you sent for me we were just pulling the potatoes from the oven.”

“Right.” Cerise took a short breath, then let her gaze rove over Wolfe. “There is much you should learn before dining with company, but this will have to do for now.”

“Perhaps Rune will let us talk some more,” Wolfe muttered. 

“After we eat,” Rune answered, making Wolfe jump. He hadn’t realised the warrior could hear him speaking so softly. “We will go to the bathhouse, and you will bathe with the women. You can chatter to your heart’s content while you wash.”

Wolfe nodded, then stared at the floor. The full force of his situation hit him at once. This was not some fun little make-believe in his room, this was how he would look from now on. The dress and paint were no big deal. But he didn’t know who would be at the meal, and the uncertainty filled him with dread. It might just be him and the Murkuri. That would be unpleasant but probably tolerable. They might mock him or make suggestive comments, but he was fairly certain Rune would protect him from the worst. And if they couldn’t actually do anything to him, Wolfe found he didn’t care what a bunch of invaders thought of him.

On the other hand, his father was the real target. Wolfe was being dressed and paraded to humiliate Lord Almary. If he was there, or his brothers, or even more members of his father’s court…

Wolfe tried to shove the thoughts aside and stop his stomach from turning at the thought of all his family’s vassals seeing him like this.

“Alright. I believe you’re ready. And then, we can talk… after.”

Cerise gave a small smile, her slave already packing up her paints, jewels and perfumes. Gwynaforth gave a quick curtsey and left without being dismissed, though Wolfe couldn’t really fault her for that. 

Just as Cerise was about to leave, she turned towards Rune.

“And don’t you touch him before the feast!” she said. “Or you’ll ruin the effect I have laboured to achieve.”

Rune blinked in surprise, then chuckled, grinning as Cerise hurried from the room.

“Your mother should have been born a Murkuri,” he said to Wolfe once they were alone. Wolfe scowled.

“Don’t insult her like that,” he scolded. “She is a fine woman.”

“Indeed she is.”

Wolfe glared at Rune’s smirking face, suspecting the warrior was saying something the lord couldn’t quite grasp. If Rune was going to be difficult, Wolfe decided, then he would just have to endure it. He perched on the chair by his desk to wait for the feast summons.

Walking down the corridor with Rune felt surreal. If not for the definite presence of the warrior, Wolfe would have assumed he was dreaming. He applied the beeswax to his lips as his mother instructed and checked himself one last time. His features were so fine that the addition of feminine elements to his look left him looking exactly halfway between male and female.

Rune made no secret of his appreciation.

“You look lovely,” he told Wolfe as they approached the hall. “You will sit on my lap throughout the meal.”

Wolfe blanched, though he was coming to accept that the Murkuri would make every unpleasant situation as awful as possible.

“Just don’t grope my cock in front of my mother,” he grumbled. 

Rune chuckled and placed his hand on Wolfe’s shoulder as they arrived. Wolfe could hear laughter and foreign speech from within, fragments of a lilting Murkuri instrument rising and falling in the breaks. He found himself grateful that he would be at Rune’s side for the evening. Despite claiming he had not decided whether to share his bride or not, Wolfe was fairly certain the giant would preserve him from molestation at least. 

They crossed the threshold into the hall and there was a brief lull as everyone present paused to watch them. Wolfe spotted his father, bound and bloodied, on Kolbu’s left at the head of the table. Cerise was in the process of spooning gravy over his potatoes. By the looks of Lord Almary’s face, he had been beaten severely, but his glare was still stubborn and venomous. 

Further down the table, Petar and Tomas were seated together. Tomas’ tunic was ripped and his brow was bloodied. He wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone, even as Petar leaned in to speak with him. Wolfe had the horrific suspicion that his brother had suffered the fate he himself was facing, though without the dress and ceremony.

Rune took Wolfe by the arm and led him to the head of the table. Tryg and Bethilde were seated away from the table but close to Kolbu, a couple of other warriors both male and female with them. Thankfully, only Wolfe’s immediate family minus his sisters were present. He let Rune pull him onto his lap and tried not to shiver when the warrior rested his hand on Wolfe’s waist. 

Kolbu raised his cup to them as they sat, then turned to Lord Almary.

“Now that the guests of honour have arrived, let us toast,” he said. “To all the babies Rune will plant deep inside his new bride.”


	7. Chapter 7

Wolfe’s mind froze with shock at Kolbu’s words. In all his life, he had never been spoken of like that, nor heard anyone use such vulgar language so openly. Rune dragged him the last few paces to their seat and pulled him onto his lap before Wolfe could get himself together. He perched as far from the giant’s torso as he could, his back stiff and straight. Rune rested one hand on his hip and gave him a squeeze. Wolfe ignored him.

Across the table from him, it looked like Lord Almary had experienced a similar mind break when Kolbu spoke. His pale eyes were as wide as his mouth, fury and distress etched in every line of his face. He drew a loud, wheezing breath, then tried to speak, but no words came out. Cerise shot him a worried glance. Her hand fluttered as though she might reach out in comfort, but Lord Almary jerked in his chair before she could.

“How DARE you—”

Without missing a beat, Bethilde stepped forward and punched Lord Almary in the back of the head with enough force to make his neck whip. Wolfe jumped at the impact, as did his mother.

“Please, my lord, there… there is no need for violence,” she tried. “My husband is a noble man, he only expresses his great… regret that our negotiations must be conducted so.”

Wolfe couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at how his mother spoke. He had always seen her as something of a mouse, dwarfed by the lionesque stature of his father, but now… he wondered how long his mother had had such fire in her. She certainly never showed so much spirit when Lord Almary raised his voice to her. She always just kept her head bowed, curtsied, agreed with him. Took her leave as soon as he would allow it. Wolfe had never stopped to consider how it must feel to be on the receiving end of such treatment, but after his hours with Rune he was starting to get a sense of it.

“I am happy to toast,” Wolfe said. 

Everyone present stared at him, some with smirks of amusement, others distinctly venomous. Tomas began to sob.

“You… are no son… of mine…” Lord Almary spat, his eyes unfocused. 

Wolfe tried not to let the sting of those words show on his face. He’d tried all his life to be a good and dutiful son, but there was no question he was now faced with challenges his father could never have prepared him for. 

“Here.” Kolbu passed a jug to Rune. “I hope it is to your taste.”

Kolbu’s tone was glib, as though they were cohorts sharing a joke. Wolfe was not scared enough to play along, but nor was he quite brave enough to snap at him. He decided the best course of action was to ignore any potential hidden meanings.

“Thank you,” Wolfe replied. “I will endure it even if it is sour.”

Rune poured them both cups with a small smile on his lips, and Wolfe couldn’t help but wonder. Was his jailer pleased at the thought of Wolfe enduring? Or did something else amuse him? Looking around the table, it was hard to see what might be funny about the sombre scene. 

All of the Elbiyans present were in some state of distress. Petar scowled, though his eyes were edged with terror. Tomas was slumped and sobbing quietly. Cerise was immaculately dressed but the tremor in her fingers gave away how deeply shaken she was. Indeed, aside from his physical wounds, Lord Almary was the only one who didn’t seem to be in shock. Wolfe suddenly realised how stupid his father was. Either he didn’t realise how dire the situation was for his family, or he didn’t care. And yet even with his sons subdued, his wife unguarded amongst their enemies, his daughters gods-only-knew where, he still couldn’t humble himself. Not for their sake, not for his own, not for his people outside the hall who were suffering as much or more than his blood. Wolfe felt a sudden revulsion sweep over him, disconcerting but unrelenting. He knew he had to carry himself better than that, or they might all be doomed.

With that in mind, Wolfe raised his cup along with the Murkuri and took a sip. It wasn’t the wine he was expecting. Instead it was something thicker, more sour, and yet sweetened with honey the taste was strangely appealing. He took another gulp before setting it down, trying not to shift too much on Runes lap. 

“Don’t drink that too fast,” Rune advised from behind him, his voice low. “It might hit you differently than wine. It’s quite strong.”

Wolfe ignored him again. After their strange moment in the bedroom, he wanted to put as much distance between them as a person could whilst being literally sat on top of someone. Kolbu took a long, deep drink before setting his cup down, grinning at Lord Almary.

“There is one custom of yours I am particularly looking forward to,” he said. “You force the newlyweds to bed each other in public, do you not?”

Lord Almary sputtered with rage and looked like he might seriously hurt himself from how hard he was struggling against his bonds. Wolfe chewed his lip, glancing over his shoulder at Rune. He had a feeling he knew which custom Kolbu was referring to. 

“You mean the surety,” he said. Kolbu looked at him, gave a smile, then turned back to his father.

“Yes, you see? The surety.”

“That is hardly  _ public, _ ” Cerise muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

“Of course it is,” Kolbu insisted. “You all gather round and watched the bride get mounted, no? To ensure she is properly bred.”

“I do not need anyone to tell me if I’ve fucked right,” Rune scoffed. 

Kolbu laughed, and Wolfe felt a chuckle shake Rune’s form as well. Perhaps there was hope. He’d completely forgotten about the surety. But maybe Rune would insist on privacy for their wedding night, and then no one would need to know how much he cried or begged for it to end.

“I don’t think we need bother with that.” Cerise’s voice was far too casual. “The surety is to ensure any children born of the union do indeed belong to the groom. Wolfe cannot bear children. We can forgo it.”

“Ridiculous,” Rune said. “You can never know who the father of a babe is unless they favour him.”

“You can if there’s a surety,” Cerise retorted, her voice tight. “But, as I said, there is no need.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Kolbu interjected. “He might not get pregnant but I’m sure it would be a good time. What do you think?”

He addressed that last to his warriors, and a lewd cheer of agreement was his answer. Cerise shot Wolfe a terrified look. Wolfe tried not to let his anxiety at the new horror facing him show on his face, but he was glad his cup was within reach. He drained it and poured himself another without delay. 

“If you try to fuck my son in front of this rabble, I will gouge out the eyes of every man, woman and child present,” Lord Almary spat.

“I thought you said he was no son of yours?” Rune shot back, and Wolfe thought he felt the giant’s hand tighten on his hip. 

Before either could say more, wide-eyed slaves brought out the first course, flanked by warriors. Wolfe saw Kolbu exchange a glance with one of the guards and realised the Murkuri must not be as relaxed as they appeared. He accepted the soup placed before him with a small smile and began to eat. Kolbu and his father continued their verbal sparring, but Lord Almary was at a disadvantage, given that his wife had to spoon feed him like a child. No one dared ask for him to be untied.

Midway through the meal, Wolfe noticed that the warriors sitting beside Tomas were sitting a little  _ too _ close. One of them had their arm around his shoulders. The other had their hand beneath the table, and Wolfe only needed one look to know that his brother was being violated. Tomas’ whole face was red and he hadn’t touched his soup by the time the slaves brought in the second course. Silent tears fell from his glassy blue eyes as the warriors spoke to him in low tones.

Wolfe knew there was nothing he could do by himself, but equally he couldn’t stand to see his brother in distress. He shifted on Rune’s lap so that he could speak to him.

“I… I have a favour to ask,” he began. He could already tell by how Rune’s gaze sharpened that it would cost him. “Those warriors beside my brother. I… I think they’re… molesting him.”

Rune followed his gaze to where Tomas shuddered in his chair, then nodded.

“They definitely are,” the giant agreed. “I’m guessing you want me to stop them?”

Wolfe nodded.

“And what favour will you do for me in return?” Rune asked. 

Wolfe took a steadying breath, unable to believe what he was about to offer. There was no alternative he could think of. 

“I will sleep in a bed with you tonight. Just sleep,” he added quickly. “No… touching, or… or anything else, but… I will let you hold me as we slumber.”

Rune chuckled.

“You were already going to sleep in a bed with me, just sleep,” he replied. “You’ll have to do better than that. How about nude?”

Wolfe shook his head, vehement, but his stomach sank as he realised he had little else to offer.

“Just in my underwear?”

“Like earlier? No. That was not enough.” Rune mustered him for a moment, then pursed his lips. “Just your braies, I will touch you a little before we sleep, and you’ll sit a little closer to my body for the rest of the meal. Get comfortable.”

Doubting he would get a better offer, Wolfe nodded agreement. Rune grinned and pulled him in, wrapping his arm around Wolfe’s waist as he did so. Wolfe jumped at the sudden increased contact. Memories of their exploration earlier sprung to his mind, his face heating up as he felt the same warmth again from Rune’s touch. He took another draught of whatever the strange, strong Murkuri drink was, glad of the effect it was starting to have. 

Rune chuckled in delight, then barked something at the two warriors beside Tomas. They didn’t even glare as they moved away. Given what Wolfe had seen of the Murkuri, he wondered what Rune must be like for such hardened warriors to obey him without question like that. It couldn’t be all down to his size. Fighting unease, he rested his head on Rune’s shoulder and sipped his drink as the slaves finished laying out the extravagant roasted boar and all its accompanying dishes they’d prepared for the second course.

“Better?” Rune asked. His face was much closer to Wolfe’s now, his earthy scent stronger, intermingling with his deep voice as both washed over him in a wave.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, bride,” Rune replied. “You’d better not drink too much more of that. I told you, it is not like wine. Be careful.”

“I need my courage.” Wolfe drained his cup. “I feel fine.”

“You’re stroking my neck, and your mother is staring at you.”

Wolfe realised with a jolt that Rune was right. He was tracing the collar of Rune’s shirt with his free hand, a steady back and forth, and Cerise looked mortified. He let his hand drop with shame.

“Now I really need my courage,” Wolfe muttered, pouring himself more. He’d made it partway through the cup before he felt it lifted gently from his hands. “Hey, I was drinking that!”

“Enough. You are drunk, or you will be soon enough.” Rune accepted the plate of meat and vegetables a slave handed to him and held it up. “Eat more and I might let you drink again.”

“I’m not a child, I can take my cups,” Wolfe retorted.

“I can see what you meant earlier, Rune,” Kolbu interjected, “She is quite a handful.”

Wolfe suddenly realised how loud he was being. In the next moment, he also realised how little he cared. He glared at Kolbu. The man seemed to sway a little, but Wolfe paid it no mind.

“You shouldn’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” he scolded. “I’m a person, I have  _ feelings. _ ”

The entire hall rang with laughter, making Wolfe jump. He scowled at the warriors in their mirth.

“And you shouldn’t try to… to scare me, like before,” he insisted, raising his voice to be heard. “You said Rune was a brute, but so far he’s barely hurt me.”

“I— hahaha, no, I never— never said that.” Kolbu could barely breathe for laughing, tears running down his cheeks. “Rune, I would never insult… oh, by the gods, my sides!”

“I know what you meant, Kolbu.” Rune was not laughing anywhere near as hard as most of the others, but his grin still stretched his face. “My bride has taken offence to it though. She does not know me as you do.”

Kolbu tried and failed to contain himself as Wolfe continued to scowl, unnerved by how loud and disorienting the Murkuri’s laughter felt. He couldn’t even tell what he’d said that they found so funny.

“I will tell you,” the warlord managed eventually. “But not tonight. By the looks of you, you would not remember if I did.”

“I would remember,” Wolfe chuntered to himself, burrowing his head into Rune’s neck. “I have an excellent mem… memory…”

He was vaguely aware of Rune’s hand across his stomach, the giant’s arm holding him close, but as soon as his face was obscured, he completely blocked out the rest of the room. 

The next thing he knew, Rune’s fingers were at his lips. He jerked his head away, startled by how much the room spun, then realised his future husband had food in his hand. Wolfe’s stomach growled as soon as he caught the scent of it. Oblivious to anyone else, he opened his mouth obediently and let Rune deposit the chunk of bread for him to chew. The effort that took was more than Wolfe expected, but the taste of thick butter and meat juices more than made up for it. He opened his mouth for more as soon as he’d swallowed.

“He needs to go to the baths,” he heard his mother saying, but she was immediately shushed by someone else. Wolfe could only focus on eating.

After a while, Rune stopped offering him food, and Wolfe settled back against his broad chest to bask in the warm buzz thrumming in his veins.

“I am drunk,” he mumbled. “You were right, it’s not like… wine… really…”

“I think it’s time for bed.” Rune shifted Wolfe’s weight as he spoke. Wolfe almost agreed, but then he remembered their deal.

“Don’t hurt me,” he begged. “I’ll be good, I promise, I just want to sleep.”

He thought he heard his mother speaking, but she got too faint to hear after less than a second. He realised Rune was carrying him.

“You’re so strong.” For some reason, that made Wolfe inordinately happy. “I can get drunk every night and you can carry me to bed. I won’t even feel your cock.”

“Maybe so,” Rune replied. “Come now, let’s get you undressed. Your mother insisted we remove the paint, too. Here.”

Wolfe flopped onto the bed and tried to sit. His limbs felt so heavy, though, and the bed was so comfortable, he couldn’t bring himself to be parted from it. Only the damp washcloth Rune began wiping over his face brought him back to himself. He laid still and let the giant work. His eyes felt raw as though he’d been crying, and his lips were far too dry, but once the paint was removed he felt relieved.

“The beeswax,” he began, then paused, unsure what he’d been about to say.

Rune fumbled with something on his girdle for a moment, then Wolfe felt the giant’s thick fingers brushing over his lips. It was strangely arousing. He opened his mouth and took one of the fingers into himself. 

“Fuck.” Rune sounded hoarse, but Wolfe was having such a good time sucking that he paid it no mind. “You are a trial, bride. Stop that, or I can make no guarantees on your virtue tonight.”

“You promised, though.”

Rune gave no response, removing his fingers from Wolfe’s reach and moving to his girdle. Wolfe smacked his lips as Rune undressed him. The beeswax was helping. 

Once he was in only his braies, Wolfe stared up at Rune. The warrior had removed his shirt and was slipping off his trousers. His cock sprang free, fully erect, and made Wolfe’s guts churn in a way he didn’t want to think about.

“I hate you so much,” he hissed, trying to believe it.

The warlord scowled. 

“I will still fuck you,” he replied. “But you might want to keep your feelings to yourself if you want it to be enjoyable.”

“I would never…”

Rune grabbed him by the ankles and rolled him so that he was on one side of the bed, ripping up the covers so that Wolfe rested on the sheets. Unease washed over him as the giant extinguished the lamps and made his way over in the dark.

“I-I don’t hate you,” Wolfe whispered.

Rune settled beside him and wrapped his arm around his waist, dragging him up to lay on top of the warrior’s massive form. His erection nestled between Wolfe’s legs and poked up so that it rested partially on his arse.

“I’m sorry,” Wolfe tried. 

“Be quiet,” Rune ordered. “You’re a mean drunk.”

Before Wolfe could think of anything else to say, Rune slipped his hand down the back of his braies and pressed his finger up against Wolfe’s hole. Wolfe gasped and tried to struggle away but he was no match for Rune’s bulk.

“You… you can’t—”

“I said be quiet.”

Wolfe felt Rune reach between his legs and grip his cock. Tears gathered and spilled down Wolfe’s cheeks faster than he could blink, anticipating the worst as Rune’s finger pressed and circled against his hole. The bed began to tremble. It took Wolfe far longer than he was proud of to realise Rune wasn’t actually fingering him, just teasing the outer muscle, and that he was masturbating. He almost wished he hadn’t realised. As soon as it became clear he was in no danger of being breached, Wolfe’s cock hummed to life, excited by the contact in his lower parts that Wolfe was trying so hard to ignore. 

When Rune came, the hot splash of cum against his leg sent shivers of delight up Wolfe’s spine. He stayed completely still as Rune sighed and cleaned them up with the corner of the covers. 

“I… I don’t hate you,” he said again. 

Rune shifted him so that they lay side by side, wrapping his arm around Wolfe’s waist and pulling him flush against him, the contact of the skin broken only by the flimsy fabric of Wolfe’s braies. 

“Maybe you should.”

Wolfe’s head spun, too drunk and overwhelmed to know what to make of that. With the darkness, the alcohol and the events of the day, he was close to falling asleep already.

“No…” he tried. “You’re… it’s…”

“Just go to sleep, Wolfe. We’ll talk more in the morning.”


	8. Chapter 8

Waking the next morning, Wolfe almost felt as though he must’ve been dreaming the day before. His bed was empty save for himself. Despite how drunk he’d been, he had only a slight headache, a benefit of his youth. He couldn’t even see the lovely silk gown he’d been forced to wear.

For several minutes after waking, he lay still and quiet. The longer he was awake, the more details out of place became apparent. He was in only his braies. There was a small patch of stiff skin on his inner thigh that crusted and peeled away when he scratched at it. Rune’s enticing scent still lingered on the pillow beside him. He remembered what he’d said the night before with a wave of guilt and fear, unsure even now why he’d said. Rune had seemed… upset, maybe? But not enough to rape him, nor enough to make the night any more unpleasant.

For now it seemed the Murkuri were content to indulge his willfulness, but he had no doubt they would tire of it eventually if he couldn’t reign himself in, even intoxicated. He tried to recall what had happened immediately before he’d told Rune he hated him.

Rune had wiped off his paint… then put beeswax on his lips… he’d… oh gods, he’d sucked Rune’s finger… Heat and shame flushed his body and made him want to curl under the sheets and never resurface, but he pressed on. Rune had stopped him, undressed him, and then… Wolfe gulped. Rune had slept naked. Wolfe had spoken those poisonous words right as the warrior took off his clothes. Right as Wolfe had gotten a look at the cock that would claim his virginity in just a few short weeks. It had looked… terrifying, but also strangely inviting.  _ He’d _ made Rune hard. That erection existed only for him. If he’d wanted to, he was fairly certain Rune would have let him touch it.

Wolfe realised with a sinking feeling that he wasn’t entirely unhappy at the thought of touching that impressive cock.

He still didn’t want it  _ inside _ him, that much he was certain of. But just to touch it, to trace it with his fingers, find where it was warmest and hardest… he had to force himself to stop imagining it when he realised his own cock was responding. 

He palmed himself through his braies. There was no way of knowing how long Rune might be, nor when he might next have a moment alone. After the stress and confusion of the previous day, he was confident he could be quick. And maybe it would help him keep himself under control when Rune was around.

He pulled his cock out of his braies as soon as he’d decided. It needed barely a stroke to be fully erect, and Wolfe lost himself in the feel of his sinful touches within seconds. It was more intense than usual. Whether it was stress or having a face and body to focus his fantasies on, Wolfe felt more alive as he let soft moans escape his lips and his hand moved faster over his cock. 

The floorboards creaked over by the door and Wolfe froze, but there was no one there. It was common enough. The lavish house his family lived in was old. He was working himself again barely a second after checking. Rune might be back at any moment. The thought of getting caught was terrifying, but Wolfe found it somehow got him closer to climax. He could imagine the warrior’s dark eyes, full of lust and roving all over his body. He tried to will the thoughts away, but his orgasm retreated with them. 

He gave a frustrated groan. Time was of the essence. If thinking about Rune meant cumming in thirty seconds rather than five minutes, it was worth it. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts run wild, ignoring another creak from by the door.

Rune would walk in and take stock of him. Maybe his cock would visibly harden in his trousers. He would walk over, watching as Wolfe gasped and writhed on the bed. Wolfe would bite his lip and plead with his eyes. Rune would smirk. He’d put his knee up on the bed, his hand on Wolfe’s thigh… then he’d move his fingers under Wolfe’s braies like he had done the day before—

“Fuck!” Wolfe’s back stiffened and arched as the most incredible orgasm of his life rocked him and left him breathless. All he could do for a few minutes was pant and shudder.

“That looked good.”

Wolfe yelped and almost jumped off the bed in fright. Rune was motionless by the door, a wooden tray in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. Wolfe could see the outline of his erection through his trousers. The warrior grinned and took a sip from his mug as Wolfe flushed bright red and hurried to cover himself.

“I got you breakfast,” Rune continued, as though he hadn’t just watched Wolfe jerk off thinking about him. “The kitchen slaves said this is what you usually eat.”

Wolfe got his breathing under control while Rune set the tray on his desk. From what he could tell, it was as usual — porridge with slices of apple and some honey, served with a cup of peppermint tea. The slaves had even placed a small bouquet of flowers and embroidered napkin as they always did.

“Thank you,” Wolfe said. He kept the blankets wrapped around his chest as he scooted closer to the edge of the bed, looking for his clothes. He spotted the green gown folded neatly on top of his clothing chest. His tunic was nowhere to be seen.

Catching his gaze, Rune smirked and handed him the gown. The expression was almost exactly as Wolfe imagined while touching himself. He swallowed a lump in his throat and averted his gaze, muttering a hoarse ‘thank you’ before slipping his chemise over his head. Rune sat on the chest while Wolfe put on the gown, sipping his drink and smiling. Wolfe couldn’t tell if it was a smile he should be worried about or not. His words from the night before resurfaced in his mind and sent a shiver of unease over him. Most men would want revenge for being spoken to like that.

“I...I don’t remember much from last night,” he began. “But I want you to know that I didn’t mean what I said.”

“You weren’t sorry?”

Wolfe’s eyes widened in fear and he shook his head, then froze, not sure if that would mean agreement or not to Rune. The warrior’s tone was light, his smile smaller but still present. Wolfe didn’t know how to interpret it given the subject they were discussing.

“I don’t hate you,” he clarified.

“Hm. Then why did you say it?”

“I don’t know. I… I was just drunk, I was talking nonsense.”

“Maybe.” Rune drained his cup and placed it on the desk. “Or maybe you were more honest because of it. That happens sometimes.”

Wolfe cast his gaze to the ground, unsure what to reply. His heart beat uncomfortably fast. Sitting here now, sober, he was sure he didn’t hate Rune. He knew that he  _ should _ , definitely, but somehow his feelings were not so clear cut. Terrified, yes, and resentful, not to mention frustrated. But there was a curiosity around the edges of all that, a type of nervous intensity that only grew with every passing hour. It felt familiar and foreign and forbidden all at once. But he didn’t think Rune would want a lengthy dissection of what he may or may not feel towards him. He was lucky Rune seemed to care about him at all beyond keeping him alive long enough to fuck. So instead he said the only thing he could think of that might convince Rune that he didn’t hate him.

“I was thinking about you.” Wolfe swallowed, his gaze darting up at the warrior’s face before fixing back on the bed sheets. “Just before. When I was… uhh…”

Wolfe trailed off awkwardly as Rune surveyed him from across the room. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the giant’s silence unnerved him. The expression in Rune’s eye was guarded. Beyond that, Wolfe couldn’t tell. 

“If you say so,” Rune said at length. “Are you going to eat? Kolbu has a lot planned for today.”

Wolfe swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and slid off the bed. Rune watched him as he made his way over to the desk.

“Thank you,” he repeated. “It looks delicious.”

“You’re welcome.”

Wolfe tried a small smile, then turned his attention to his food. His stomach was in knots. Every mouthful felt borderline painful as it made its way down his throat. He ate every bite but barely tasted any of it. Rune sat silently throughout, watching, his face impassive. The giant didn’t seem angry. In truth, he seemed the same as the day before. But if he was in fact harbouring any bad feeling over what Wolfe said the night before… it didn’t bear thinking about. The damage he could do would be devastating. Wolfe had to be sure he was safe, or it might cost him his life.

He smiled nervously when he was done eating. 

“Thank you,” he said a third time. “So, when will we go?”

“In a little bit.” Rune shrugged. “Kolbu will send for us. Last I knew, he was talking with your mother.”

A cold trickle of fear ran down Wolfe’s spine at the thought of his sweet, defenceless mother alone with an enemy warlord. Thinking back on the night before reassured him a little. As long as things didn’t get physical, his mother could probably handle anything Kolbu threw at her.

“What are they talking about?” he asked.

“The wedding, probably. Cerise is adamant you wed with no expense spared.”

Wolfe smiled at that. Not only was the gesture comforting, he wondered if his mother might succeed in delaying the nuptials by a little. They’d had no time to call for help when the Murkuri attacked. No one knew yet that they were captured, but that could only last so long. If they could hold out until reinforcements arrived then Wolfe and his family might be spared. He tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment in his chest that Rune would be killed.

He opened his mouth to ask some more, maybe see if Rune would let him sit on his lap again, when there was a knock at the door. The summons. He would have to figure out later if his mistake the night before was truly forgiven.

Wolfe followed Rune out into the courtyard. There, he found Kolbu and a cohort of Murkuri readying horses, along with his mother, father, and, to his horror, his youngest sister, Elowen. He cast a glance at Rune. The giant didn’t notice, instead striding forwards to greet Kolbu and some others. Wolfe stood nervously by his side. His father was bound and on horseback already, his wrists behind his back and a thick cloth gag in his mouth. His bruises had intensified overnight. Wolfe couldn’t tell if he’d been beaten more after dinner or not, but his left eye was swollen shut, blood crusted his hair, and it seemed like almost every inch of visible skin was a nasty shade of purple. His steed was a donkey, as well. Wolfe cringed a little at the humiliating figure the lord cut, but another part of him thought how easy it would be for his father to make his suffering end. He was just too proud.

Cerise and Elowen waited nearby. Both were dressed for an outing in the forest, their hair braided back from their faces and their gowns of the shorter riding variety. At fifteen, Elowen was dressed more to allure, her collar lower and her gown looser than the matronly cut of his mother’s clothing, but both looked far too exposed considering they were surrounded by soldiers. Wolfe didn’t think he’d be comfortable with that even if they were dressed in full plate.

“Are you excited to hunt?” Kolbu asked suddenly in Elbiyan.

Wolfe tried to cover his startle with a smile and a quick nod.

“Of course,” he replied. “It will be a good distraction.”

“Is Rune not distraction enough for you?” Mischief lit Kolbu’s icy eyes, his gaze flitting between Wolfe and Rune. “Do not insult his honour like that, or who knows what you might incite.”

Wolfe tried to smile at the joking tone, but his insides clenched with fear. The Murkuri culture was too different from his own for him to figure out how to navigate such complicated conversations. An Elbiyan would never bring up the current status quo, let alone make a jab at it like that. But none of the Murkuri seemed fazed. Taking a second look, Wolfe realised that there were women among them. They were dressed exactly like the men, some tattooed, some with short hair. Wolfe was just as shocked as the day before. He couldn’t drag his gaze away from them, much as he tried. Bethilde was among them. She caught Wolfe’s eye and grinned, letting her gaze drag down his body then up again.

“It suits him,” she said to Rune. Rune chuckled. Wolfe couldn’t help but feel Rune was still a little off compared to the day before, but at this point he didn’t know if it was real or all in his head.

Wolfe kept an eye on his mother and sister as the Murkuri talked, only contributing when called on. One of the younger Murkuri hovered near them. The youth was gangly but evidently well on his way to the kind of height and width warriors like Kolbu, Tryg and Rune boasted. Wolfe tensed as the warrior began talking to Cerise and Elowen. On the back of his donkey, Lord Almary looked furious, but there was little he could do.

At first Cerise and Elowen looked terrified, but the longer the youth spoke, the more both seemed to relax. Wolfe didn’t trust it. He was tempted to ask Rune to step in, as he had the night before, but he couldn’t quite find his voice. Elowen smiled suddenly at something the young warrior said. She looked radiant. It hit Wolfe that, if not for the circumstances, she would look like any maid being courted. The realisation made his stomach turn. 

“We are ready.” Rune’s voice cut through Wolfe’s thoughts and made him jump. “You will ride side-saddle in front of me. Come along.”

Wolfe allowed Rune to lift him up onto the back of a huge quarter horse and sat still, both legs thrown over one side, as Rune mounted up behind him. His body hummed with excitement as the hulking warrior settled behind him and pulled him in close. 

The party set off, a dozen riders in total, and Wolfe had to cling as he adjusted to the unfamiliar riding style. Rune shifted his arm to better support him, and for a moment Wolfe forgot his anxiety over his drunken insult. It was good to be out of the house, out of his room, on horseback, even if he was surrounded by enemies and dressed in women’s clothes.

As they entered the forest adjacent to the town, an idea occurred to Wolfe. The Murkuri didn’t know the terrain. There were a lot of them, true, but there were parts of the forest too overgrown to follow on horseback, as well as thickets and rocky outcrops full of small caves and narrow passes. 

He didn’t know if he dared try and make a break for it, but, equally, he didn’t know if he would get another chance. There was also the sickening thought that he would be abandoning his family and their people. Wolfe was no warrior, but even so, it didn’t quite sit right with him. Although, he reasoned, if he could escape then he could get help. It would be quicker than waiting for someone outside the town to try to pay a visit or follow up on a message unreturned. 

Rune’s grip on him was steadying, not restrictive. His legs were already both facing the same way. It would be easy enough to wriggle free. There was a hunting cabin not too far from where they were, he could stay the night and sneak away before the sun rose to fetch help. But only if he could find his courage.

Then he met his mother’s eye across the back of a horse walking between them. She was positioned similarly to him, sitting side saddle in front of Kolbu. Elowen was further back with the gangly youth. She seemed at ease, or at least as much at ease as she could do under the circumstances. Cerise had her head tilted as though listening to Kolbu, but her gaze darted back to her daughter every few seconds. She glanced back at Wolfe, and, as though reading his thoughts, gave one tiny nod.

Wolfe took a breath and launched himself from the horse. 

Rune reached out and tried to grab him, but Wolfe twisted away and darted into the trees. The Murkuri shouted and barked orders at each other, but Wolfe was fast. He picked up the long skirts and ran for all he was worth. 


	9. Chapter 9

One advantage Wolfe had over Rune at least was his speed. He may not be much of a fighter, but he could run like a hare, and he made full use of that as he ducked and bounded around trees and over fallen logs. Behind him, the crash and thrash of his pursuers retreated to barely a whisper. They wouldn’t be able to keep up even if they weren’t all decked out in cumbersome armour, not with how often Wolfe had run this exact path with his brothers as a child. There was a hunting lodge his family owned a few hours from where he’d bolted. If he could make it there, he could rest during the daylight hours, then sneak away at night and get help. 

He was so caught up in his plans, just for a moment, that he forgot he was wearing a dress. The skirts slipped and he trod on them without thinking. The dress jerked around his shoulders, a sudden tug that sent him sprawling over a fallen tree, the dense moss wet with dew and cold against his skin. As he stood up and brushed himself off, he realised the moss had acted like a sponge and soaked through his gown in several places. The skin beneath the fabric was already getting cold and clammy. He cursed under his breath and kept going. 

The sun was bright but not quite strong enough yet to warm him. Given it was late spring, it was hard to tell if it would strengthen or not as the day progressed.

He made good time after the initial dash, finding deer paths and paying closer attention to where he put his feet. It gave him plenty of time to think. The closest town was Shaywood, but, given the Murkuri had made demands for it, he didn’t know if it would be safe there or if the Murkuri might have another host standing by within its walls. 

A little further, and crossing more open ground, was Colbrook. It was larger and better defended than Shaywood, but it was also the territory of the royal family. Getting an audience for a mid-level noble such as himself might be difficult. If any of the royals were in residence at all, they would likely be swamped with other petitioners and urgent meetings with their military advisors about the general Murkuri threat. Getting them to believe his father’s hall had fallen might be a challenge unless they’d seen the Murkuri heading that direction themselves. 

Wolfe marvelled at Kolbu’s audacity. Tithdale, his father’s hall, was nowhere near the front line. It was not so far from Murkuri territory as to be impossible, but it was still a more daring assault than Wolfe could imagine an Elbiyan general undertaking. 

Inevitably, thoughts of Kolbu quickly led to thoughts of Rune, and Wolfe found himself unable to tear his mind away. Even if the giant hadn’t held any rancour over Wolfe’s drunken insult, he was likely furious now. Wolfe shuddered at the thought of finding out exactly why so many of the Murkuri warriors treated him with such fearful respect. He had the sinking feeling that by jumping off the back of the horse he had sealed himself into some doom — but Rune would have to catch him first.

By midday, he hadn’t gotten as far as he had wanted to, but he also hadn’t seen or heard any signs of pursuers in over an hour. He came to a halt at the top of a hill and took some time to rest. Breakfast was several hours ago and he’d burned most of that off with his first sprint. His stomach growled as he scanned his eyes out through the endless trees before him. He had no traps or weapons, nor was he confident he would be able to do much with them even if he had them. There might be fruits on trees but he wasn’t trained to identify what was safe to eat. With a sigh, he resigned himself to waiting until he reached the lodge and praying there was something there. The forest was quiet and still before him. He steeled himself against his complaining stomach and pressed on.

The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky when Wolfe suddenly had the terrifying sensation of being watched. He’d been lucky all day, he hadn’t seen anything bigger than a pheasant, but he was instantly sure his luck had run out. Wolves, wild boar and bears were numerous in the dense woods. They made it a popular hunting location for groups, but a lone person was in quite the opposite position. 

He tried to pick up his pace without seeming to run. The long gown caught on twigs and brambles as he went and slowed him down as panic rose in his chest. No matter how many discreet glances he took, he could only ever catch a faint glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye, too subtle to be sure if it was real or imagined. Fearful tears pricked his eyes as the feeling of being hunted intensified.

Even knowing that he was likely no longer alone, it was a shock when an arrow flew from the trees behind him and landed with a dull thud at his feet. He shrieked and stumbled as another embedded itself in a tree trunk inches from his face.

Wolfe was running before he had time to process what happened. His grip on the skirts was uneven, getting in his way and making him stumble, but his steps were fueled by pure fear and he had no time to adjust them. 

Behind him, Murkuri voices called out in lewd and playful tones as more arrows whizzed by his head. The light, joyful tones of his pursuers made his knees weak with horror. It was a game to them. They were hunting him and took it no more seriously than a challenging game of drafts.

A hunting spear hurtled past him and he cried out again in terror. It landed with heavy finality in the mud and took him with it. For a moment Wolfe thought he was wounded, pinned to the ground and unable to get up, but then he realised the spear had only caught his skirts. He was still pinned, but he was unharmed — for now. The Murkuri caught up to him in no time.

A mean-looking man arrived first and gave a whoop, jabbering something to his companions before turning towards Wolfe. Wolfe cowered away from him. 

The second to arrive was the medium-sized man Rune had beaten in the square to claim him. The look he gave Wolfe made the young lord’s skin crawl. He reached out to try and pry the spear out of the mud, but the first man came closer and shoved his hand away. Wolfe didn’t have the courage to try again. The pair conversed in Murkuri while Wolfe trembled in the dirt between them. He’d expected more warriors to arrive, but as the minutes dragged on he was forced to face the fact that they might not. By the way the pair conversed, they were friends. The medium-sized man had been a contender for Wolfe’s hand. And if they didn’t say anything, no one would ever find out that they had captured him…

“Please don’t hurt me,” Wolfe gasped before he could stop himself.

The Murkuri paused their conversation and looked at him. Their glares were hostile as the medium-sized man knelt down to Wolfe’s eye-level.

“I don’t know what witchcraft you have used to neuter Rune,” he said. “But it will not work on me.”

As he spoke, the man reached under Wolfe’s skirt and rubbed his stockinged calf. Wolfe tried to stifle a cry of fear and revulsion. He kicked out, hampered by the spear pinning his skirt, and was struck across the face for his efforts. His head rang with the blow as both warriors leapt into action. The first man grabbed him by the wrists and forced him onto his back as the second took him by the ankles and pushed his skirts up.

“No!” Wolfe screamed. “Help! Someone, help me! No!”

The men chuckled.

“Scream all you like, Elbiyan whore,” the man now between his legs chuckled. “We lost track of the others hours ago. They might even have given up and gone home now.”

Wolfe struggled as best he could, but the two men were stronger and had the advantage of his restricted movements. He felt his skirt tear around the spear as the warrior fumbled with his braies. Wolfe kept screaming. He had lost all hope that he might be saved but there was no containing the complete and utter panic he felt as he tried and failed to free his hands.

The full horror of the situation hit him barely a second before everything changed.

The man who was trying to rape him was there one moment, tugging at his underwear, and then in the next moment he was sprawled to the side. Blood flowed in a slow ooze from his temple. 

The man holding Wolfe’s wrists yelped and flung himself backwards. Wolfe sobbed in relief and kicked the slumped man away from him. The man moaned and flopped around, his eyes unfocused. Wolfe reached for his skirts as he caught sight of the rock that had hit the warrior in the temple. Whoever had thrown it must not be far off, and Wolfe had no desire to be their next victim.

Meanwhile, the warrior who had been holding his wrists had drawn a blade. He tried to level it at Wolfe but a deep, angry roar sounded through the trees, advancing quickly. Wolfe paled. That was undeniably Rune, and he sounded beyond furious. He slipped his skirt off over the end of the spear and started running again without a second thought.

Behind him, footsteps thundered into the space he had occupied moments ago. The uninjured warrior began to speak, but he cut himself off with a blood curdling scream. Murkuri voices rang out and Wolfe knew he was being pursued again.

“Please, just let me go!” he screamed. “Please—”

Something huge and solid hit him in the stomach and he sagged with an ‘oof’. The forest floor rushed up to meet him and he gasped for air. He blinked in shock up at the low-hanging branch he’d clotheslined himself on.

Trying to right himself and keep going resulted in an excruciating pain shooting through his ribs, so he reached out and dragged a fallen branch over himself in the most useless attempt at camouflage he could imagine. The dress was green and covered in so much mud, water and leaf litter that he could almost convince himself it would work.

Rune’s face loomed over him barely two minutes later. 

“What are you doing?” 

He sounded less angry and more amused than Wolfe had predicted, but the young lord reacted instinctively nonetheless. He kicked and punched with all his might. Rune blinked in surprise, then immobilised his arms with one hulking hand. Wolfe’s arms were small enough that Rune had no trouble holding both still with just the one hand. Wolfe continued kicking, his breath coming in short, squeaking bursts of fear, until he felt Rune’s weight settle on him. More warriors were appearing from the direction they’d just come. 

“Please… p-please…” Wolfe sobbed. “R-Rune, please, I-I… d-don’t…”

Rune cast him a frustrated glance, then shifted so his arm was around Wolfe’s shoulders, still keeping his wrists pinned to his chest. The added support was somehow both comforting and more claustrophobic. Wolfe tried to breathe deeply to stop himself descending into complete panic.

Wolfe’s eyes bounced around the new arrivals. He recognised Skriev, Bethilde, Tryg and Adunn among the dozen or so Murkuri materialising out of the trees. Every one of them was looking at him. Wolfe whimpered and pressed his face into Rune’s shoulder. The warriors were speaking in Murkuri again. By their tone, there was some sort of disagreement among them. Rune pulled Wolfe to his feet as the argument continued. He kept hold of Wolfe’s wrists, and also twisted his hand in Wolfe’s skirts, pinning his legs together. For his part, Wolfe kept his face pressed into Rune, trying to breathe and come to terms with his failure… and its consequences.

“Ask him, then,” Adunn said in Elbiyan. “Ask him and let us decide on it once and for all.”

Rune sighed, making Wolfe tremble. He gathered his courage and peeked out from Rune’s shoulder.

“Did you hit or kick one of the warriors we found you with?” Rune asked. Wolfe blinked, shocked, then nodded before he could stop himself. Rune sighed again. “Tell me the circumstances.”

Wolfe frowned and tried to rally his thoughts. Though it had only happened a few minutes ago, his mind struggled to put the events in order.

“I-I w-was walking…” he began. “A-and then… they hunted m-me…”

Despite his best efforts, Wolfe’s voice trembled more and more with each word. Rune’s grip on him was firm enough to hold him together but not much beyond that. Wolfe expected to be thrown down again and assaulted at any moment.

“I can’t believe you of all people are marrying Rune,” one of the warriors scoffed, and Wolfe hid his face again, his heart thundering.

“He is not a warrior,” Rune replied. “He is a scholar.”

The warriors switched back to Murkuri, then Rune spoke to Wolfe in a low voice. 

“You have not made this easy on yourself,” he murmured. “Where did you even think you were going?”

Wolfe shuddered at the question. It was not yet sunset but nor was the sun high enough to return to Tithdale. If he divulged the lodge’s location, it would be one less safe haven if he managed to escape again. But he didn’t want to be out in the forest with the Murkuri at night. Unlike back at the hall, where he was alone but at least surrounded by his family and subjects, here there was absolutely no chance of any help coming to him. 

“There is a hunting lodge only a half-mile or so north of here,” he whispered back. “I w-was going to stay there then go for help.”

“Hmm.” Rune adjusted his grip on Wolfe’s skirts to pull him in closer. “Not a bad plan.”

Rune turned back to the warriors and spoke in Murkuri. A couple of them answered him, and then Rune lifted Wolfe off the ground, still gripping him only by the wrists and skirts. Rune carried him back past where the two warriors had tried to rape him and Wolfe gasped. The man Rune had defeated in the square was dead, his face pulped beyond recognition. The other man was leaning against a tree, attended by another Murkuri. His arms were on a sickening angle, one twisted at the elbow, the other hanging limp from the shoulder with the bone jutting out. His face was pale and sweaty.

Wolfe knew instantly that Rune was responsible for the damage to both. Killing a man was one thing; every warrior had a tally, that was just part of the job. The two warriors who had tried to rape him looked destroyed. The survivor would never recover, of that Wolfe was sure. Rune had damaged him in such a way that he would never hold a weapon again. 

In Elbiyan culture, that would leave him at the mercy of any charitable relatives or temples he might appeal to, pitied but no longer respected or consulted on matters of importance, regardless of his status before his injury. He had no doubt the Murkuri custom was just as bad, if not worse. 

Wolfe suddenly realised exactly why the other warriors looked at Rune with so much fear. With his size, any attack he landed would do far more damage than the average soldier. The knowledge that the reason he was feared essentially did just come down to his size did very little to comfort Wolfe as the giant hauled him away from the gruesome scene.

He swallowed a terrified lump in his throat as the group set off north.


	10. Chapter 10

The lodge came into view just as the sun was setting over the forest. The trees thinned out for several hundred metres around the buildings, a path winding towards it from the west and a large, clear lake on its opposite side next to the steam house. Everything was locked up tight.

Wolfe trembled in Rune’s grasp the whole way, too scared to ask to walk. The Murkuri around him seemed tired but far less hostile once they arrived. Wolfe told them where to find the key and most of the warriors spread out to light fires, organise food and settle in. Rune took Wolfe to the master bedroom and deposited him by the door. 

There was a large carved bed in the middle of the room, the floorboards dark and polished beneath it and the covers thick and downy on top. Beaten copper wash basins, his and hers, stood beside a wide bay window. An ornate wood and lace modesty screen sectioned off one corner of the room, and doors in a matching style led out to a small balcony. The whole lodge oozed quiet class and wealth, and it peaked in the lord’s chamber.

Wolfe lowered his gaze and stayed where he was put as Rune examined the room. 

“Hmm. Very nice,” Rune commented once he was done. “I wish I could say the same for your dress, though.”

Wolfe flushed and took a moment to examine the gown. Its formerly crisp green fabric was wrinkled and stained, part of the skirt torn where the spear had caught it, some of the fine stitching at the hem scuffed out and torn. He stayed silent and shrugged, dreading Rune’s response. 

The giant strolled over and plucked at the dress.

“Take it off.”

Wolfe’s lower lip trembled, but he was too frightened to disobey. He slid the gown off over his head and dropped it to the floor. 

“And the rest.”

Wolfe couldn’t help how slowly he moved. He unrolled his stockings, then dragged his chemise off and untied his braies, expecting to be snapped at the whole time. But Rune just watched in silence.

When he was fully nude, Wolfe forced himself to keep his hands by his sides. He could feel the giant’s gaze roving over him. When Rune reached out, Wolfe jumped and gasped, cringing back against the wall. Rune didn’t pause. He ran his huge, rough hand over Wolfe’s shoulders, then down his arm to take him by the wrist. It was far less terrifying than it could have been, but Wolfe still needed some coaxing to step away from the wall again. Rune made him turn on the spot and ran his hands over his shoulders and down his back.

“A few bruises,” Rune said at length. “But nothing too serious. You should be fine.”

Rune stopped touching him and moved away, returning with a blanket from the foot of the grand bed. He draped it over Wolfe’s shoulders. Wolfe clutched it tight around him, grateful for the barrier, however flimsy. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

His chest constricted as he waited for an answer. He had run away, disobeyed the implicit orders of his captors, and they had caught him. There were no limits to what might be in store for him. Every second that passed, he trusted the calm less and less. Rune had dismantled two men not hours earlier. The fury he’d displayed as he took them apart still made Wolfe’s heart shudder. 

And yet he hadn’t so much as raised his voice at Wolfe for his disobedience. Not that he ever really had, even before their misunderstanding. The fragile hope that perhaps he was truly safe with the giant fluttered under the stifling fear consuming Wolfe’s mind.

As Rune smoothed the blanket over him, Wolfe wondered why he kept expecting violence from this man who had been far more considerate and respectful than he had any need to be, given the circumstances. That he was an enemy warrior certainly contributed to it. But beyond that, he had no idea. He let himself give in to Rune’s grasp as the giant led him to the bed. If he was about to be molested, he couldn’t really do anything about it, and it was his own fault he was away from the miniscule safety of Tithdale.

“Are you going to say you’re sorry for running away?” Rune asked as they reached the mattress.

Wolfe swallowed hard, then shook his head, shocked at himself even as he spoke.

“No,” he replied. “Because I’m not.”

Much to Wolfe’s surprise, Rune let out a low chuckle, his dark eyes lighting up with delight. He pulled Wolfe down onto the bed with firm hands on his waist, settling them on their backs. Wolfe stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. Rune glanced at him, then chuckled again and muttered something in Murkuri. He put his arm out and slipped it beneath Wolfe’s neck, then rolled him so that he was curled into Rune’s chest. Wolfe was struck by just how exhausted he was, for the second day in a row. It made sense at least after his day-long trek. The giant’s scent was already lulling him into a more relaxed state. He shifted experimentally, then got more comfortable when it became clear that he still would not be punished. 

“Are you ready to tell me what happened before I arrived out there?”

Wolfe pursed his lips, mention of his near miss making him cringe internally. He ran back through the events as best he could. Rune waited in silence, his arm firm around Wolfe’s shoulders.

“I was running,” Wolfe said. “And they shot at me. They… they speared my dress, and then they…”

Wolfe crumbled, unable to describe the horrific sequence further. Rune rolled a little and held him closer. Wolfe was choking out sobs before he could stop himself, feeling cold and numb inside. He clutched at the blanket around him and burrowed his face into Rune’s strong chest. 

Wolfe was past being shocked at how much emotion he could be unaware of holding inside himself. After his tears the day before, he’d begrudgingly accepted that, in this particular situation, he was unable to live up to his culture’s stoic standards. Rune made it easy, too, just laying with him and holding him as he cried it all out.

Wolfe could feel himself winding down even before one of the warriors knocked on the door. He quieted himself and kept his face hidden as Rune called out an answer. Rune and the warriors conversed in low tones as though Wolfe were sleeping. The lilting cadence sounded calm enough that Wolfe let it fade to background noise, turning over his situation in his mind. 

The first thing he decided was that he owed Rune a debt for comforting him. He gave the giant no credit for respecting his virginity, since that was their agreement and to break it would be to dishonour himself, something no warrior would welcome. But there was no obligation to look after him. There was no obligation to do anything but keep him alive until the wedding. Wolfe wasn’t entirely sure, but he suspected even letting the two warriors get away with trying to fuck him might have been considered acceptable by most Murkuri, given that Wolfe was a prisoner more so than a real fiance. And yet Rune had behaved as though Wolfe were already his. He’d defended him as though he was genuinely precious to him and not just a pawn on his path to being square with Kolbu. The comfort of that alone made Wolfe’s agitated mind quieter. He tucked his legs in closer to Rune’s and was pleased with the indirect confirmation of an answering squeeze on his shoulder.

“Would Elbiyans consider the violence you did to those two Murkuri self defence?” Rune asked after he’d talked with his compatriots for a few minutes.

“Yes,” Wolfe answered, deliberately ignoring the memory of far greater violence Rune had done to his attackers minutes later. “They had just speared my dress and they were holding me down.”

“That is good,” the warrior by the door replied. “We can all testify to the state of you when we found you.”

Wolfe risked glancing up and found Tryg and Bethilde standing in the doorway. They looked tired, but relieved. Wolfe suddenly realised how out of his depth he was in terms of how to behave both as a woman and as, most likely, a future Murkuri bride. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would have anything so sophisticated as a legal system, let alone one that recognised nuance such as self defence, but that was definitely what Tryg’s phrasing implied. A moment later, Wolfe wondered who the defence would be for, if it was needed. He had kicked a man trying to rape him. Rune had caved in the man’s face for that same attempt. It was possible they might both be held to account for that if it was believed to violate some Murkuri law.

The warriors lapsed back into their own language for a moment, then the other two left and Wolfe was alone with Rune again.

“There is a steam house here,” Rune told him. “Everyone is going to use it before we eat. The trek was long today.”

Wolfe squirmed a little even though there was no rebuke in Rune’s tone. The trek had been long because of him. 

“Are we going to join them?” he asked.

“I would like to, yes,” Rune replied. “I think it will help you as well. We are all used to such long marches. You travelled the same distance without the kind of stamina we have built over time. But if you prefer to stay here, I can bind you before I go, and come collect you for supper. So it’s up to you. Would you like to come steam with us?”

Wolfe shifted awkwardly. He did always enjoy using the steam room when he visited the lodge. And his muscles had been aching and sore even before the two warriors hunted him. Plus, the Murkuri who’d come as far as the lodge all seemed harmless as far as enemy soldiers went. Except for the one who’d scoffed at him marrying Rune, none had paid him any attention at all as they walked. They were about as safe as Murkuri could be. For all Wolfe knew, they might be Rune’s closest friends, people he would have to see often after they were married. It wouldn’t hurt to start getting to know them ahead of time. To top it all off, the idea of being bound naked and left alone sent chills through him at how vulnerable he would be until Rune returned.

He gave a quick nod, then pressed his face back into Rune’s chest. The giant chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “No one will touch you but me.”

Wolfe was nervous about walking through the lodge in only a blanket, but Rune insisted on letting his clothes dry before he got back into them. He could see the logic in that. Still, he was convinced that some misfortune would befall him on the short walk from the master bedroom out to the sauna. That fear was proved wrong with every step, though his anxiety didn’t ease until they got to the sauna. As soon as they arrived, he realised he would actually have attracted more attention wearing clothes.

All eight of the other Murkuri were already naked, men and women both. They’d set up tubs of water outside the steam house and were helping each other clean off the grime of the day before going inside. Rune stripped as well, his giant physique highlighted by the flickering torch lights, and led Wolfe to a tub. Bethilde was sluicing her hair. Her small breasts wobbled as she worked, drawing Wolfe’s attention. He’d never seen a woman completely unclothed before. He expected to find himself stuttering and shy, but instead he was just fascinated, as though observing some unknown creature in the wild. His cock stayed resolutely soft between his legs.

“You led us on quite the chase today, Elbiya,” Bethilde commented. “I did not imagine you had such cunning and stamina.”

“Um…” Wolfe dragged his gaze from her chest to find her smiling at him, her hazel eyes tired and calm. She sounded almost impressed. Wolfe decided to take a chance and follow his intuition. “I nearly got away. If not for those two back there, I might’ve made it.”

“Ha! Indeed,” Bethilde replied. “Perhaps another day.”

She grinned and flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder before stalking over to join some other warriors entering the steam house. Rune chuckled, and Wolfe realised he must look stunned.

“Here, I will wash you,” Rune offered. He picked up a rag from the water. “Try not to move.”

Wolfe gave an owlish nod and did as he was instructed. The cool water soothed his sore skin where he was bruised as Rune traced careful lines over his body, insisting over his knees and palms where mud had soaked and clung. Wolfe leaned into the soft touches and tried not to let the strange pleasure at being cared for so intimately show on his face. For all his undeniable might, Rune was gentle. Wolfe’s mind was blank and peaceful as he ignored all his stressors and just focused on the sensations against his skin. 

By the time Rune judged him clean, Wolfe felt almost like his usual self. 

“Now I’ll do you,” he decided aloud.

Rune blinked as though he hadn’t quite understood, but he still handed over the rag and crouched to let Wolfe work. 

Wolfe watched his slender hand trail the cloth over Rune’s tanned, scarred shoulders with fascination. The vast expanse of skin was surprisingly soft and smooth for the life Rune led, at least on his back. Wolfe took the excuse of being thorough to trace some of the scars dotting the giant’s skin. Some were deep and pale, others faded and smoother. One was undoubtedly an arrow. Another could have been either a blade or a simple scrape. Wolfe almost asked about them, but decided to hold his tongue. Depending on the stories behind them, they might chase away his newfound sense of relative calm.

Rune sat peacefully throughout. He had no visible awkwardness at turning and allowing access to all the different parts of his body. Wolfe realised that such a public bathing must be commonplace among the Murkuri by how casual they all were, but it was the most foreign thing in the world to him. Bath houses in Elbiya were often communal but everyone kept mostly to themselves. The only people who might touch someone else were slaves, and even then there were strict rules for propriety. Not to mention that not even husband and wife would be allowed to bathe together, let alone a random group of men and women. The thought of sitting with strangers in the nude was suddenly and incredibly exciting to him.

“I think you’re done,” he said as he dropped the rag back into the water. Rune smiled at him and extended his arm to herd Wolfe into the steam house.

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

Inside the sauna, all of the warriors were in varying states of relaxation. There were two benches in stained pine, one set above and behind the other. The wooden interior was just cozy enough that it didn’t seem strange that some were lounging against each other, whereas others had positioned themselves so that they could lay without disturbance. There were no windows and the door was sealed shut behind them with hay-stuffed pads. Flames flickered in the central stone area and one of the men leaned forward and poured a ladle of water as they entered. Steam billowed off the molten rocks. Wolfe knew that the water for the steam house was sometimes scented, so it came as no surprise when the faintest floral hint hit his nose, but a couple of the Murkuri made noises of surprised appreciation.

Rune guided Wolfe to a gap on the upper bench and sat beside him. None of the others so much as blinked, but Wolfe found himself pressing closer to Rune as he gawked at the complete ease with which the foreign warriors steamed nude together. Whenever Wolfe used the sauna with his father and brothers, they wore long white linen chemises to their ankles, to preserve their modesty. Forgoing them felt strange but, as the steam circled dense and heavy around them, Wolfe was glad not to have the long fabric sticking to him.

Rune gave a deep sigh beside him and rested his head back against the wall. The giant’s strong, chiselled jaw jutted out and gave Wolfe an exquisite view of his well-defined neck. The same neck Wolfe was always burrowing into. 

A lump came to his throat as he let his gaze wander lower. Rune always looked like this beneath his clothes, he realised. And Wolfe already had experience of the giant without them too. His face flushed as he remembered how Rune had jerked off with Wolfe on top of him not even a full day earlier as his gaze came to rest on Rune’s cock. It was mostly flaccid but still impressive, thick and proportionate to the rest of him. Wolfe shuddered in trepidation of how it might feel as Rune mounted him, but the curiosity about it in less intimate places remained.

“Am I really so interesting?” Rune asked.

Wolfe jumped, blushing at being caught, and shook his head as he averted his gaze. Future husband or no, it was rude to stare. Rune chuckled and one of the other Murkuri made a comment in their foreign tongue. Wolfe stared at the bench, trying to ignore his anxiety at not knowing what was being said. He still didn’t know if he would be punished for running. Rune seemed fine, but Wolfe had no idea if the others might take a more vengeful view of it.

Seemingly from nowhere, Rune caught him by the waist and hoisted him up onto his lap, making Wolfe squeak in shock. He froze as he realised more of the Murkuri were watching him now. None were overtly hostile, but they were all naked and away from anyone who might help Wolfe if things went bad. He’d been avoiding thinking about how easily they might take his virginity out in the forest and then pretend like they hadn’t if he tried to tell anyone back at Tithdale.

“Relax, bride,” Rune soothed. “They’re just staring because you were loud.”

Rune wrapped his arm around Wolfe’s waist and put pressure on his shoulder until the lord relented and leaned against him. Everything in the sauna was warm, but the warrior’s broader chest was warmer, firm expanses of skin with wisps of hair that made Wolfe tremble inside. He could feel Rune’s flaccid cock against his arse cheek. Another glance told him some of the Murkuri were still watching and his nervous mind instantly decided that they were waiting for Rune to rape him. He clutched at Rune’s arm and pressed his face into his shoulder, trying not to hyperventilate.  _ Everything is fine, _ he told himself.  _ Even if he does rape me, he was always going to, it’s just a little sooner than I expected, oh gods, oh gods— _   
“Elbiya?”

Wolfe held tighter to Rune at the unfamiliar voice by his side, tears gathering in his eyes. He could feel someone rubbing his hip but he was too panicked to figure out if it was Rune or someone else. They might  _ all _ fuck him, one after another, men and women both, and then— and then…

“Take a drink, Elbiya, the steam is just too thick for you.” The unfamiliar voice spoke again, this time something hard poking his shoulder. “Do you need us to open the door?”

“Hmmmmwhat?!” Wolfe’s breath felt chokey and shallow, only adding to his distress. “I… please, oh gods, don’t…”

“Let’s get him outside,” Rune muttered.

“No!” 

Wolfe pulled back, intending to start fighting, but in doing so he knocked the hard thing still at his shoulder. It spilled cool water down his arm and made him jump, eyes winding wildly to rest on— oh. A water skin. Tryg was sitting beside them, and he was offering him a drink. Every other one of the Murkuri were staring at him and the commotion he was causing, but none had moved, nor did they look more than either annoyed or mildly concerned. 

Tryg exchanged a look with Rune. Wolfe didn’t catch the giant’s unspoken answer, but he stopped resisting as Rune held him a little tighter and took him firmly by the chin. Tryg leaned in then and raised the skin to Wolfe’s lips.

“It’s just water,” Rune assured him. “Don’t be foolish, Wolfe, just take some sips. If you won’t, then we will go outside.”

Wolfe didn’t have much choice but to drink. It only tasted of water, and having something soothing and physical to focus on did help him calm. He realised Rune meant to take him out because they thought he couldn’t handle the sauna. It was warm and thick, but that wasn’t what was making him anxious. 

By the time Tryg took the skin back, Wolfe was calmer. He let himself relax back against Rune’s chest and gave a shaky sob. 

“Th-thank you,” he whispered.

Tryg gave him a kind smile and patted him on the knee, then settled back against the bench, his body angled towards them.

“Of course, Elbiya,” he replied. “I am more than happy to help Rune’s wife.”

Wolfe swallowed thickly and curled in a little closer to Rune.

“Did you find anything to eat in the woods?” Rune asked, and Wolfe shook his head, making Rune sigh. “That will not be helping. The food should be ready soon, we will not stay in here long.”

Wolfe didn’t know what to say to that. His body still felt shaky and hollow with fear, but his mind had caught up to the fact that he was in no danger, just a little too tightly wound. 

“What do you like to eat, Elbiya?” Tryg asked. 

Wolfe flushed at how deliberately soft and kind his tone was. He had really made a fool of himself, he felt like, kicking up a fuss over nothing and disrupting everyone’s steam.

“Um. I like… meat,” he said. “And some Elbiyan dishes. Things with carrots in them. Uhh…”

He trailed off awkwardly, his dark eyes settling on Bethilde as she came and lounged closer to them on the bench below.

“There were carrots in the larder here,” she told him. “We roasted them along with the hind Skriev and Adunn hunted today while we searched for you.”

“Yes, it will be very tasty,” Tryg added. “And we have some  _ firsmoll... _ uhh… some flat bread, from our lands, as well.”

Rune traced gentle circles over Wolfe’s shoulder as the other two spoke. Between how careful Bethilde and Tryg were with their words and the firm grounding of physical touch, Wolfe found himself calming properly, his body relaxing further and chasing away the feeling of weightless terror in his bones.

“That does sound delicious,” he agreed. “Um… thank you for hunting the hind. Adunn. And, um. Skriev.”

Two warriors on the far side of the sauna grunted and nodded at his thanks. Adunn… he’d hit him yesterday for throwing up on his boots, and Skriev had tried to challenge Rune for him. Looking at them now, neither seemed anything but relaxed in the shadowy steam. It might have been Adunn who scoffed at him being Rune’s bride earlier but it seemed he was not actively hostile over it. If not for their hair and tattoos they might easily have been Elbiyans.

“Better to hunt as Murkuri than fuck around with all that horseback and bows bullshit you Elbiyans do,” Adunn grunted. “I’d be surprised if Kolbu caught anything today if he did it your way.”

A couple of Murkuri chuckled and one of the women said something in their language, low and amused, which made the rest chuckle more.

“How do you hunt then?” Wolfe asked, trying not to be offended at his culture’s habits being disparaged. “At least on horseback you can keep pace with the creatures long enough to fell them.”

“Ha! You only need to keep pace with them because your arrows take longer to kill them,” Adunn retorted. “For a Murkuri, all you need is one spear, and they’re down.”

“Surely not for everything?” 

“Everything,” Adunn insisted.

“Not for boar,” Rune interjected, and Adunn huffed.

“Alright, no, not for boar, usually,” he admitted. “But my grandfather could fell a boar with one spear. He was so good, he only owned one spear, that’s how good he was.”

“That’s a load of horseshit,” Bethilde scoffed. “Your grandfather only owned one spear because your grandmother’s hands were strong enough to snap their necks, and her stride was so long she could step right over and straddle them in the forest.”

Every warrior present laughed at that, and Wolfe found himself smiling nervously as well, imagining some fearsome Murkuri woman stomping around the forest killing boar like some sort of folk creature. He expected Adunn to be insulted at having his grandmother spoken of like that, but he only grinned and nodded.

“You wouldn’t want to be out after dark dressed in skins near her house, that’s for certain,” he agreed.

Wolfe nuzzled into Rune’s chest as the conversation shifted away from him. The mood was still relaxed and amicable, the Murkuri exchanging lazy insults and recounting tales. Wolfe felt a little flicker of disappointment when one of the men switched back to speaking Murkuri, but then Rune answered in Elbiyan and it seemed they all silently agreed to speak so that Wolfe could understand.

“We are almost done here, Elbiya,” Tryg told him after a while. “After the plunge, I will find you some clothes. Or at least a belt or rope for your blanket.”

Wolfe blinked, surprised and touched at the consideration, while Rune thanked his friend. Tryg didn’t wait for an answer from Wolfe, just nodded and smiled then turned back to Bethilde, talking in low tones. Much as he was a prisoner, Wolfe realised he felt quite safe, almost more like an outsider just getting to know a new group rather than a permanent target. He had no doubt all the Murkuri present could all be vicious and depraved beyond what he could imagine. But if anything they had been kinder than Elbiyans would have been were the positions reversed. He wondered again at what might be in store for him as Rune’s wife. If it was just more long nights like this, he found he was actually looking forward to it. And, if he really thought about it, he realised there was very little Rune had done to indicate it wouldn’t just be this, at least when they weren’t fucking.

“You really are going to respect our agreement, aren’t you?” Wolfe found himself whispering against Rune’s neck. “You… you’re going to wait, and keep me safe, and… and be gentle with me.”

Rune leaned back and met his gaze. In the gloom, half his face was in deep shadow, the embers from the stones and fires catching and glinting in his eyes. Wolfe stared back at him with owlish awe. He really was quite attractive, despite his thick beard and distinctly not-Elbiyan features. Wolfe trembled in anticipation as Rune positioned himself and leaned in slowly. He placed one soft kiss on the corner of Wolfe’s mouth, then moved just as slowly to do the same on the other. Wolfe’s stomach fluttered and he felt his cock twitch at the gentle, deliberate show of affection. 

“I will wait,” Rune confirmed. “You are precious to me.”

Wolfe’s mind thrummed to life at that statement. Of course he was precious, he brought wealth and status and the chance to disgrace his father. He knew that already. But the husky tone Rune used, the unnecessary but greatly welcome care as he’d kissed him, that made him think— well, wonder, really… could the giant truly have some affection for him beyond just fulfilling his pact with Kolbu and proving his dominance over the people he had conquered?

The questions dithered on the tip of Wolfe’s tongue, his gaze still caught and fixed on the eyes of the man before him, but he didn’t dare ask. He realised he so desperately wanted to hear that Rune cared. He yearned for more kisses and the safety of knowing they were given from love rather than just to appease him. But he was quite sure Rune would be honest. Brutally so, even. And the prospect of learning that, no, in fact, it was all just business already made Wolfe’s heart ache. He wasn’t brave enough to face that sort of disappointment, not now and certainly not after such a trying day. 

“I think that was my first kiss,” he mumbled instead. 

Rune’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He reached up and cupped Wolfe’s face, dragging his thumb over his cheek with a strange look in his eye.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss,” he said. 

Before Wolfe could think of something to say, Rune leaned in again, this time planting his lips firmly against Wolfe’s. The lord made a muffled noise of surprise as the giant teased at him. There was a sweetness to his movements that made Wolfe melt, gentle pressure that coaxed another sigh from him, then a strange and delicious pull as Rune sucked Wolfe’s lower lip between his teeth. Desire raced beneath Wolfe’s skin as Rune slowly and deliberately took his mouth apart. The temptation to fall headfirst into the feeling and never resurface was so strong, he was almost glad when he felt Rune’s tongue dance over his teeth in a silent request for entrance. 

Wolfe forced himself away, panting. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He put his hands on Rune’s shoulders and leaned back, his mind reeling, his cock fully hard between his legs. Rune didn’t say anything or try to force more on him but Wolfe still couldn’t bring himself to meet his eye, too stunned by what had just happened. He covered his groin with his hands and curled into a ball on Rune’s lap. Rune let him hide his face against his shoulder without a word.

“I have found him a tunic.”

Wolfe jumped and looked up at the unexpected interruption. Tryg was drenched from head to toe, no longer lounging on the bench beside them. Wolfe hadn’t even heard him get up.

“Thank you,” Rune replied. “And the food?”

“Ready when we are.”

“Hmm. Good.” Rune shifted and Wolfe realised the giant warrior was hard too, a fact he tried to forget as soon as he discovered it. “Come now, bride. Let’s go jump in that lake.”


	12. Chapter 12

The cold water of the lake hit Wolfe’s skin like a punch to the gut. The Murkuri around him gasped and whooped, ducking their heads, so Wolfe did the same. The sudden temperature shift was invigorating. It felt like a weight lifted off him and dissolved to nothing, leaving him light-headed and peaceful. 

By his side, Rune popped back up above the water, blowing droplets off his beard and chuckling a curse at the cold. He didn’t stare or seem overly focused on Wolfe. The lord had assumed that the giant would now be more intense, more eager to possess and fuck him, but instead it was like he had forgotten the brief passion between them in the sauna. Wolfe didn’t know what to make of it. The lack of expectation was a relief, but he found he couldn’t entirely trust it. After everything he had done, justified or not, surely Rune bore him at least a small amount of ill will. But he couldn’t see it, no matter how hard he looked. 

Rune caught him staring again and grinned. Wolfe scowled and looked away. Yesterday when his father’s hall fell he’d expected torment and pain and, perhaps, the mercy of death. He’d dreaded it but knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Somehow this felt worse despite being undeniably better. If not for the danger all around him, it felt almost like a love story from a ballad. He chided himself not to be tricked into believing in it too much. He’d only known Rune a little more than a day. There was still plenty of time for the giant to turn nasty.

A couple of the Murkuri started splashing each other, but Wolfe was already beginning to shiver. The early spring days could be warm but the nights were still bitter and the water held the chill. 

“Let’s go eat,” Rune suggested, as though reading his mind. “You looked exhausted. You need to get to sleep.”

Wolfe nodded, averting his gaze so as not to be caught in the inky black orbit of Rune’s eyes, and followed him out of the lake. Tryg was sitting outside the sauna, slightly less wet but still damp around the edges. He held up the tunic he’d found. Wolfe didn’t recognise it but he was glad of its too-large fit as he and Rune dried off and got dressed. 

The scent of roasted meat and vegetables hit his nose as soon as the lodge door opened and his stomach roared in excitement. Rune and Tryg both glanced at him, shocked at the noise, then chuckled.

“Be sure to eat as much as you like,” Tryg told him as they reached the table. “We have plenty, and you are too thin as it is.”

“I’m not thin,” Wolfe retorted. “I’m slender. It’s very becoming for a politician.”

“Ha. Okay.” 

Wolfe ignored the impulse to explain more as one of the Murkuri women shoved a plate towards him. It was laden with what had to be the best food in the world, if his watering mouth was anything to go by. He tucked in without regard for propriety. None of the Murkuri were bothering with knives and forks either so he just followed their lead, scooping up meat and vegetables on the strange flat bread and popping it into his mouth with his fingers. 

The mix of flavours took him by surprise. The meat and vegetables were ones he’d eaten all his life, but the way they’d seasoned it was completely foreign to him. Elbiyan food leaned towards the plain. Everything was always delicious, but cooking styles favoured enhancing the natural flavours of the base food rather than combining them with anything. Even in most dishes, things were served separate but together. 

Not so with Murkuri cuisine.

A burst of tang hit him first, then the savoury succulence of the venison, and he thought that was it, but the more he chewed, the more subtle undercurrents intermingled into his taste buds. It was savory and sweet at the same time, occasional bursts of one overpowering the other, but mostly they coexisted in fascinating harmony. The flat bread was somehow buttery despite being served plain, which only added to the overall experience. 

“This is delicious,” he said in between bites. 

“It needs  _ triskad _ .” The tone of the dark-haired woman who had served him was curt. “But it doesn’t grow here.”

Wolfe pursed his lips and nodded, focusing on his food. There was something about her tone that made him feel like she would get angry if he spoke to her more, no matter what he said.

“Don’t mind Krig,” Bethilde said. “She’s in love, so she’s hiding out here instead of facing it.”

Krig shot Bethilde a dark look but didn’t say anything. The rest of the Murkuri ignored her as they ate unless she spoke to them, at which point they acted completely normal. Wolfe decided it was safer not to engage.

As the meal went on, a couple of the Murkuri lapsed into their own tongue, but Wolfe was touched that most stuck with Elbiyan, including one girl who couldn’t have been more than fourteen. Her accent was so thick Wolfe could barely understand her. Still, Wolfe appreciated the effort. He found himself wondering how he would go about learning Murkuri so that he could meet them all halfway.

Rune drew his attention with a gentle touch to his wrist. Feeling braver now that he was full, Wolfe looked at him and smiled.

“Tryg and Bethilde have suggested we stay here a few days,” Rune told him. “That way we might clean up your dress, and make your father worry.”

“And so that Krig can sulk,” Bethilde added, earning her a scowl and a kick from the other woman. She just laughed and kept eating.

“And that, yes, if Krig chooses it,” Rune agreed. 

Wolfe didn’t think he had a choice, but there were other people besides his father who would be upset if he was gone too long.

“What about my mother?” he asked. “She will assume I’m getting raped and tortured day and night. I… I don’t want her to suffer like that.”

Rune sighed and cocked his head to one side, looking over at Tryg and Bethilde. Neither one of them seemed particularly concerned for Cerise’s wellbeing. Wolfe’s heart sank a little, knowing the torment his mother’s own mind would subject her to, especially as she’d given that tiny nod of approval right before he bolted. He was about to beg when Rune spoke again.

“I will think of something to prevent that, then,” he replied. “Maybe I can have her brought here too. Your father would be even more incensed at that, I suspect.”

Several different emotions warred in Wolfe’s chest. On the one hand, he was finding more and more comfort in his mother’s presence, but on the other, she would be terrified at being led off into the woods with a bunch of enemy soldiers. He opened his mouth to try and express that but found he didn’t know where to start. He closed his mouth and nodded.

“I will send Tryg and Bethilde to collect her,” Rune said after a moment. “You trust them, yes? More than the rest at least.”

Wolfe looked up at him again, grateful for the consideration and for the fact that Rune was the type to think of it.

“More than the rest,” Wolfe agreed. 

Tryg laughed and said something in Murkuri, to which Bethilde responded with glee, and Wolfe realised he actually did trust them a little, and, startlingly, that he trusted Rune even more. His hand gravitated closer to Rune’s without him noticing as he pondered the strange turn of his heart and mind. Rune didn’t react to the contact until Wolfe had finished eating. The giant stroked his thumb over the back of Wolfe’s hand, at which point the lord flushed and pulled his hand back. Rune chuckled at his confused expression.

“Time for bed, I think,” Rune said. “I will be taking the first watch tonight, but I will make sure you’re settled before I go.”

Wolfe followed him and tried to convince himself he wasn’t disappointed that he wouldn’t get to fall asleep next to the naked giant.

The bedroom was exactly the same as how they’d left it with one glaring exception. Attached to one of the bedposts was a thin chain. Wolfe hesitated as he realised what it was for, but Rune was having none of it.

“No complaints,” the giant said. “We hunted you all day, we’re not risking you slipping off in the night.”

Wolfe knew he was far too tired to try another escape but he couldn’t blame Rune for being careful. He submitted to having his ankle chained in silence. Rune pocketed the key and helped him organise the covers, then gave him a small smile. 

“I’ll try not to wake you when I come in,” Rune assured him, then extinguished the lamps and left. Wolfe huddled down under the covers and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

The door creaked a lot louder in the dead of night compared to during the evening. Wolfe bolted upright, breathing hard, and was momentarily terrified of the looming shadow by the wall.

“Steady, bride,” Rune mumbled. “It’s just me.”

The giant stifled a yawn as Wolfe calmed himself, stripping off and dropping his clothes and armour to the floor as he made his way over. Wolfe was still in only the tunic Tryg had found for him, no chemise or underwear at all. He caught sight of the outline of Rune’s flaccid cock as he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, the hummed in sleepy delight when he caught a faint whiff of alcohol and the much stronger scent of Rune’s body. Wolfe’s heart skipped a beat. The feeling of Rune’s bare skin against him in the sauna had haunted his dreams. If the warrior was sleeping naked, he could have that again — as long as Rune didn’t take it as an invitation for more. Wolfe wasn’t prepared to offer himself up completely.

“You promise you won’t fuck me til after the wedding?” Wolfe whispered. “And that you’ll be gentle?”

“Yes, Wolfe. I promise.” 

Rune sounded patient but tired. Maybe tired enough that he wouldn’t react  _ too  _ strongly to Wolfe lying naked beside him..? 

Wolfe pulled his tunic off over his head before he could second-guess himself further, tossing it over the side of the bed. Rune didn’t react but Wolfe could  _ feel _ his interest sharpen in the darkness. After taking a moment to breathe, Wolfe cuddled up to him, resting his head on his strong, broad chest and wrapping his arm over his thick waist. He pressed the length of his body against Rune’s side. It was  _ heaven _ . It was everything Wolfe remembered from earlier but somehow better for the soft sheets and intimate privacy of the bed around them. He gave a soft sigh and rested his arm over Rune’s midsection. 

The warrior’s heart beat hard and fast beneath Wolfe’s cheek, making his own pick up the pace in response. More than that, the urge to be close to Rune was morphing into something else, an electricity beneath his skin that craved action, contact,  _ something _ more than just laying immobile beside each other. Wolfe didn’t dare follow his thoughts to their natural conclusion. He hadn’t thought about what might happen next. He’d assumed they would just sleep, but he was wide awake now and he doubted he could settle until the frantic need in him had somehow peaked and died away. Rune’s arm winding around him and settling on his hip didn’t help matters.

The silence stretched between them. Wolfe felt like he might jump out of his skin with how highly strung the warm contact of Rune’s body made him, but he didn’t know how to proceed in such a way that wouldn’t get out of hand.

It seemed Rune was in a similar state, but, unlike Wolfe, he had very little reason beyond his promise to keep control. His whole body was completely still except for the rapidly rising tide of his breathing. The muscle beneath his skin felt taut against Wolfe’s cheek. The lord slowly realised there was no way Rune would just go to sleep now, especially if he’d been drinking. 

When the warrior moved, it was sudden, powerful and overwhelming. Wolfe shrieked as Rune gripped his hip and flipped him, pinning him to the bed with his massive bulk. 

“I hope you will forgive me.” Rune was breathless by his ear, forcing his hand between Wolfe’s legs. “Or that you do actually want this.”

Wolfe braced himself to be raped, his mind whirling with terror as he stifled panicked sobs into the pillow. But instead of feeling Rune’s thick shaft invade him, the warrior slotted it neatly between his legs, resting it just beneath his balls. Wolfe gasped at the intimate contact. Rune was rock hard, his hips already sputtering against Wolfe’s arse, and Wolfe realised his own cock was eagerly responding. He had to say something.

“Be gentle,” he begged. 

He didn’t have time to marvel at what his brain had settled on when by all logic he should be kicking and screaming. Rune rolled his hips and pressed Wolfe into the mattress, chasing all thoughts from his head. Wolfe moaned loudly. It was muffled against the sheets but there was no denying the eager anticipation flooding his system as Rune fucked his thighs. He tensed his legs and squeezed, making Rune groan into the back of his neck. Wolfe whimpered and ground his arse up into Rune’s thrusts. His cock ached and raged against the sporadic pressure of the bed beneath him, craving warmth and something more substantial to ease the longing, so he reached down to help himself out as Rune pounded him into the mattress.

“Fuck, Wolfe,” Rune growled. 

Then Wolfe felt Rune’s massive hand shove his own hand away from his cock and Rune took over. His expert touch coaxed more moans from Wolfe’s lips, the pace of his thrusts matching the strokes.

“‘M close,” Wolfe gasped. “Rune, oh gods, I’m— I’m so close—”

Wolfe barely managed to finish his sentence before he felt his orgasm rush through him. His fists balled in the blankets and he made a noise halfway between a cry and a moan as cum splattered over Rune’s fingers.

A second after he was done, another spurt hit his stomach and he realised the warrior’s shot had reached as far up as his own. His next disjointed thought was about how, actually, that made sense, given the warrior’s cock head was level with his. 

He didn’t have time to process that further as the giant collapsed on top of him, suffocating him. He whined and kicked out, and Rune quickly shifted, still pinning him but not putting so much pressure on his back. Wolfe pressed his face into the bed and panted, trembling. Their cum was already cooling on his stomach and on the sheets beneath him. He had never felt so sated before in his life.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Hmm?” Rune sounded completely blissed out, his head resting on Wolfe’s shoulder blade, his leg still thrown over Wolfe’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Wolfe lied. “I… the cum is getting… uhh…”

“Ah, right.” Rune shifted and dragged Wolfe with him until he was lying on a fresh patch of sheet. 

Wolfe didn’t know what to do. The sudden orgasm had robbed him of strength but he knew without a doubt he had much to consider. Doing so with Rune naked and wrapped around him was proving difficult, though. Did he… actually, truly want to do things with Rune? There was no doubt how terrified he was when the giant flipped him over, but the feeling of that massive cock rubbing against his balls, brushing his hole with the top of the shaft, was the best thing he’d ever felt. 

But then, the head had easily reached his own cock’s head even through his legs. It was long. It would sink at least that deep if Rune sheathed himself completely, not to mention the girth was perhaps as thick as Wolfe’s wrist, maybe more. It was, again, proportionate for Rune, but Wolfe was tiny in comparison. If…  _ when _ they fucked, the warrior’s huge body on top of him, slamming into him, would render him completely helpless. He wondered if a person could die from being fucked. If it was possible, he had no doubt he would run that risk with Rune.

The warrior gave a soft snort and Wolfe realised he was already asleep. His thick arm still rested over Wolfe’s waist, holding him close without suffocating him now, so he rolled tentatively and put his own slender arm up to return the embrace. Rune didn’t stir. Wolfe didn’t blame him. They’d both had a long day, and it could easily be in the early hours of the morning now. 

Wolfe settled with his head under Rune’s chin and let the giant’s rhythmic breathing soothe him. As with every time he’d tried to come to a conclusion on how he felt, he realised it ultimately didn’t matter. He was still Rune’s prisoner. He would still be wed to the giant and possibly fucked in front of everyone in just under two weeks. Thinking about it in any depth was pointless. All he could do was enjoy the moments that brought him pleasure, and pray there weren’t too many that broke him down.

His last thought as he drifted off was how nice it felt to sleep next to someone as warm and firm as Rune.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst incoming, but dw, it's mild.

Wolfe woke slowly the next morning, disoriented but calm. Rune was dozing beside him. His arm was still around him even though they’d moved around in their sleep. His face was smooth, his beard tickling Wolfe’s shoulder and his hair swept back off his forehead. He looked peaceful. Wolfe lay still and cozy under the covers as he hovered between drowsing and waking. A lazy glance at the window informed him that it was at least mid-morning, but, unlike in his father’s hall, there were no servants to wake him and bustle him off to attend court or greet his tutors. Being in bed so late felt decadent beyond measure. He gave a deep sigh and didn’t resist as Rune pulled him closer in his sleep.

Endless minutes passed like that. Wolfe didn’t want it to end, but eventually a cramp in his bladder made him shuffle out from Rune’s embrace and make use of the chamberpot. By the time he was finishing up, Rune was watching him through slitted eyes. Wolfe blushed at the attention, the cozy calm gone as he was faced with the man who had rode his thighs to completion the night before. He got back into bed quickly and positioned himself so that Rune couldn’t see his face. The giant wasn’t deterred. He wrapped his arm around Wolfe’s waist and pulled him in close, pressing slow kisses into his shoulder.

“Rune, stop,” Wolfe breathed.

“Don’t be like that,” Rune murmured as he moved up to his neck. “You came so hard last night. Just let me have you like that again.”

As he spoke, Rune rubbed his hand over Wolfe’s ribs, then gripped his hip. Wolfe’s heart hammered and he could already feel his body responding. Rune’s cock pressed against his arse, hardening as well, and Wolfe gave a soft whimper. Rune’s other arm snaked around his neck and held him firm as the giant took his time exploring his body. Wolfe forced his body to be stiff and motionless as he gathered his resolve.

“Rune, please don’t,” he begged. He wanted nothing more than to let the giant take him apart, but he knew he shouldn’t. 

After another moment, Rune’s movements slowed.

“You have changed your mind again.”

Wolfe hated to hear the disappointed note in the giant’s tone, but he couldn’t give in. Elbiyan custom dictated that the only way Rune could fuck him was if Wolfe did everything in his power to stop him. Then and only then would he be absolved of shame at what transpired between them. A small part of him wished Rune weren’t quite so kind and honourable, that he would ignore his protests and take everything he wanted from Wolfe’s body as he cried and struggled. He stayed silent, holding his breath. After a moment, Rune gave a soft, frustrated sigh.

“Very well,” he muttered. 

Wolfe’s heart ached as Rune released him and rolled away. He felt the bed rise as the warrior stood up, then heard the unmistakable shuffle of clothes being pulled on. His eyes were too clouded with tears to turn and face him. He couldn’t even look as Rune released his ankle from the chain.

“I will go see if Tryg and Bethilde are awake yet,” Rune told him, his tone unmistakably hurt. “Come out when you’re ready.”

Rune strode over and opened the door, then called out in Murkuri. A few moments later Wolfe heard Adunn and Skriev talking as well, then Rune left. Wolfe guessed the giant had posted the pair as guards to prevent him trying to run off again. With the crushing weight in his chest, Wolfe didn’t think he could make an attempt even without them there. 

The silence that settled over the room once Rune closed the door felt more suffocating than the giant collapsing on him the night before. Fat tears rolled down Wolfe’s cheeks as he curled in the dying warmth of where Rune had been barely a minute earlier. Every fibre of his being yearned to rewind back to the giant’s arm around him, his cock against his arse and his breath fanning hot and hard over his neck. If he could freeze that moment and live in it, Wolfe knew with certainty that he would. 

And yet, at the same time, his mind rebelled against it. What would people say if they knew how badly taken he was with his captor? His mother, his father, his brothers, everyone at court? He would be cast out of society, stripped of all his loved ones and banished from Elbiya for such weak and shameful behaviour. He was a lord. He was a man. The weight of the expectations placed on him by those two states of being had never felt so burdensome. Even if he’d been willing to cast off every aspect of his old life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

He cried in bed for what felt like hours. His eyes felt swollen and sore as he rose from bed and pulled the borrowed tunic over his head. He still had no shoes or undergarments. Looking in the mirror by the window, he was shocked at his own appearance. His close-cropped dark hair and noble posture were as normal, but the rest of him looked a mess. With his blotchy, tear-stained cheeks and bare legs, he looked like he’d been subjected to all the rape and torture his mother would have worried over. 

He went to wash his face in the basin but found the ewer empty. Usually there would be a fleet of servants to wait on him and his family when they visited, but the Murkuri had no such luxuries. It left Wolfe in a dilemma. He could wait and hope his face looked better with some time, but the emotional outburst had left him weak and hungry. His mother likely wouldn’t arrive until the afternoon. The only people who would see him would be the Murkuri, but Wolfe wasn’t sure how tears and distance between him and Rune might be interpreted, nor indeed how Rune would behave in front of them. They might feel some pity for him, they might be oblivious, both of which were not ideal but still acceptable. But the most dangerous option was that they might interpret what they saw as indication that Rune had raped him. If they thought he was no longer a virgin, they might decide that one cock was no different to many, and then who knew how safe he would be from assault.

Wolfe’s stomach gave a sickly gurgle and he sighed. He was overthinking everything again. His political tutor often reprimanded him for his tendency to over-strategize, and he couldn’t deny how stressful that habit was now, with things he actually cared about on the line. When he fell prey to himself like this in his classes he was just supposed to breathe and drop it. Sometimes he succeeded, other times he struggled. If he couldn’t do that here, he was certain he would stay in the room all day. He didn’t want that. Rune might bring him food, but, given how upset he’d sounded when he left, there was no guarantee. 

And beyond that, if there was even a small chance of regaining some of the warm, happy mood of earlier, he realised he wanted it. He wanted that safe feeling and the easy, comfortable moments between them when he could get out of his own head long enough to enjoy them. No one had ever made him feel such a strange mix of emotions before. If he could have even half of that once they were wed, he knew his life wouldn’t be completely awful. 

Steeling himself with a few deep breaths, Wolfe made his way to the door. He made sure to hold his head up high as he opened the door and stepped outside. 

Adunn and Skriev were talking in low tones, but they stopped and looked up at him when he stepped out of the room. They looked hostile, but Wolfe couldn’t tell if they were genuinely a danger or if he was just on edge.

“I’d like to go eat breakfast now, if that’s alright,” he said. 

“You mean lunch,” Adunn grunted back. “It’s coming up on midday.”

Then the warrior fell silent, jerking his head in the direction of the dining hall. None of them spoke as they made their way down the corridor. Wolfe tried not to let his nerves show at how little clothing he was wearing in the presence of at least one enemy he knew for certain would fuck him. Without Rune there to steady him, he was half convinced they would bend him over the table by the time they reached the hall. Rune was nowhere to be seen, but Krig and the youngest warrior were sitting and talking at the table. They, too, looked up and paused their conversation as Wolfe entered.

“Sit,” Adunn told him. “Food will be ready soon.”

Wolfe did as he was told and tried not to look too worried. The young warrior looked nervous, but Krig was definitely displeased with him. He couldn’t fathom why. He’d barely spoken to her, and he hadn’t gotten the impression she wanted him to the night before. Given all the unknowns of the situation, he decided it was best not to try and initiate conversation now either. However, Krig had other ideas.

“What happened?” she demanded. By her side, the young woman’s eyes widened and she muttered something in Murkuri, but Krig cut her off. “What did you do, Elbiya?”

Wolfe froze. He had no idea what Rune had said, but he didn’t want any details of their tryst the night before getting out if they weren’t out already.

“Wh-what do you mean?” he squeaked.

Krig’s dark eyes narrowed and she rose from her chair.

“Don’t play dumb.” Her voice dripped poison as she stalked over to where he sat. “Rune is not talking, but he is trained to resist torture. I doubt you can boast the same.”

Krig drew a rippled blade from her hip and leaned in, and Wolfe thought he might die of fear on the spot. He couldn’t look away from the sharp edge of the blade as she put her hand on the back of his chair and crowded him in. Adunn and Skriev were still in the room, but only the young warrior tried to step in, babbling loudly in Murkuri with growing confidence. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” Wolfe begged. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”  
“Krig.”

Rune’s deep baritone wasn’t loud, but it still cut through the room. Krig glared over her shoulder at him. Wolfe closed his eyes, tears of terror sliding down his face. Rune was speaking in Murkuri again, his tone firm, but Krig argued back. Wolfe gripped the arms of his chair to stop himself screaming and jumping up to run away. That could only end badly.

“You should make him pay,” Krig suddenly spat, switching to Elbiyan, and then she grabbed Wolfe by the hair and pulled his head back to expose his throat. Wolfe cried out, babbling in terror, convinced he was about to die, but suddenly Rune’s massive form was blocking out the light beside him. Wolfe sobbed as Rune grabbed Krig by the wrist holding the knife and wrenched her away. 

The next few seconds were a blur of movement and screaming. Krig’s voice was raspy and fierce and almost as terrifying as Rune’s booming rebuttals. Wolfe found his chair yanked and he sprawled to the ground, then was whisked up and out of the way as Rune and Krig fought. Wolfe clutched around him and found himself trembling in the young warrior’s arms as she pulled him to the wall and stood in front of him. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Wolfe gasped. The woman ignored him, and he realised she had her hand on a blade at her belt. Gulping, he followed her gaze.

Wolfe couldn’t believe how brave Krig was. She was roughly the same size as him, but she stood square against Rune and screamed with nothing but fire in her veins. Rune could easily crush her, no question, but for some reason he only shouted back at her, even as she waved her knife around. Wolfe wanted to scream at him to kill her, more from fear than any real desire to see her dead, but the tension as they argued stole his courage.

A few moments later, Rune said something, and Krig went silent. She glared at him for several long moments, and Wolfe suddenly realised how calm the giant seemed. Then Krig shouted something at him and turned on her heel, slamming the door after her as she stalked off into another part of the lodge. In the silence after her departure, Wolfe sagged to the floor in relief, trembling from head to toe.

Adunn said something in Murkuri in a light-hearted tone and only Skriev gave a nervous chuckle, but it did break the tension in the room, not completely but enough that Wolfe saw the young woman who had defended him relax. He couldn’t bring himself to stop shaking. A huge hand on his shoulder made him jump and shriek.

“Steady.” It was Rune. “Did she hurt you?”

Wolfe tried to answer but all that came out of his mouth was a sob. He was curled in on himself on the floor, gripping his knees and crying almost as much as he had done earlier in bed. He glanced up at Rune. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, but the genuine concern on the giant’s face was not it. He cried harder.

“Okay,” Rune murmured. “It’s alright. Come on.”

Wolfe shuddered as Rune slipped his hands beneath his knees and around his shoulders to lift him, but the moment he was in Rune’s arms he started to calm. His whole body still felt shaky and hollow, but an actual thought passed through his mind, followed by another, then another as Rune carried him from the room. By the time they were halfway to the kitchen, he was calm enough to wrap his arms around Rune’s neck and hold on tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I–”

“Don’t apologise,” Rune told him. “You have done nothing wrong. She shouldn’t have attacked you. I can’t believe she tried to argue it, no one in the world would agree with her.”

Wolfe wanted to say, _obviously_ , that wasn’t what he was apologising for, but he couldn’t find the words. Rune didn’t seem to notice. He strode through the wooden arch leading to the kitchen and deposited Wolfe gently by the large central table. The smell of food cooking nearly made Wolfe faint, but Rune was still beside him, his hand still on his shoulder. Wolfe clung to him before he could get in his own way and was relieved beyond measure when Rune held him tight.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Wolfe tried again. “I… I think there was a miscommunication between us, but it’s my fault. I… I wasn’t… clear… about, uh…”

“I understand.” Rune was obviously trying to appear unbothered, but there was a sad edge to his voice that Wolfe couldn’t ignore. “I was… hmmm. I was excited at the thought that you might want me. But I know that it is not the case. I will not deny that it stings me a little. But I will not forget it again.”

\--------------

EDIT: AHHHHH I FORGOT but here I hit 600 followers on Twitter not long ago and did some Wolfe/Rune sfw art to celebrate :3

[Here's the link to the tweet](https://twitter.com/nefsferaatu/status/1340008088477327367), and let me know if you want it as a print (minus the thank you note lol), I'm ordering one for myself in early January. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's ahead of schedule, I know, but eh, it's Christmas and I do celebrate it. So here's chapter fourteen a few days early. I will still upload chapter fifteen on Tuesday, as per the usual schedule. I hope your holiday season is joyful, peaceful and bountiful regardless of if or what you celebrate. <3

Wolfe felt his heart break at the stoic resignation in Rune’s tone. It wasn’t… he  _ did  _ want the giant, but it was more complicated than that. But even if he could have found the words to explain, Wolfe knew he was better not speaking on it until he had sorted everything out in his own mind. He didn’t know what expectations Rune might have if he confessed his desire for him. He might expect to behave like a couple, for Wolfe to sit and cuddle openly with him, or maybe even to allow himself to be shared around. The situation was too foreign to him. The Murkuri were too foreign. He only knew enough of them to know that he didn’t know anywhere near enough to be making big, rash decisions where one of them was concerned. Especially if the others took it badly, like Krig had.

So he stayed silent, but he did hug Rune a little tighter, grateful that the giant was not pushing him for answers despite how badly he must want them after the orgasms they’d shared the night before.

“Were you cooking?” Wolfe asked, reluctantly changing the subject.

“Yes. We take it in turns when we don’t have slaves to do it for us. Krig and Nannu cooked last night, now it’s my turn, and so on.”

“Is Nannu the one who pulled me out of the way just now?”

Rune nodded, giving Wolfe a final squeeze before gently detaching and moving back to the stove.

“She is Bethilde’s sister, my little cousin,” Rune told him. “Her mother is my father’s sister. And then the other two who are out hunting right now are Artux and Ariete, they are brothers. And you know the rest already, I believe.”

Wolfe went quiet as the information he already knew of Rune joined the new nuggets, and he frowned. Rune hadn’t said so directly but Wolfe thought it was safe to assume his father had been his mother’s master when they were slaves. If that was true, then Bethilde and Nannu must be wealthy, possibly nobility in their own lands. And yet they seemed perfectly at ease serving under and beside ex-slaves like Rune and Kolbu. As strange as it seemed to him, perhaps there truly was no stigma against being born into captivity in Murku. He wanted to ask, but, after how inadvertently rude he had been when Rune told him initially, he didn’t quite dare bring it up.

Rune was stirring something thick and glistening in a pot. It had a similar scent to the venison they’d had last night, but it was clearly a different dish. Wolfe’s stomach grumbled as his attention came to rest on it. Rune smiled at him but didn’t give any indication how much longer it might be. Wolfe cast his mind around for more questions to keep himself distracted, both from his stomach and from the slowly receding horror at what had almost happened.

“Are you all related somehow, then?” he asked, then tentatively pushed for a joke. “Is that why you must steal Elbiyan brides?”

Rune snorted loudly and chuckled, so Wolfe let himself relax into a small smile. Rune grinned at him before replying.

“As it happens, no, the whole of Murku is not one big family,” Rune told him once his laughter settled. “But we do tend to stick with those we know. Especially in big armies such as Sybane’s. You can trust any warrior on the field, but most wars are fought without blades, and in that arena you can rely only on true friends. So we tend to find our friends within the army and make smaller armies. It’s safer that way.”

Wolfe couldn’t quite picture it but he trusted that Rune knew what he was talking about. It felt very different to the rigid, structured cohorts of Elbiyan soldiers. An Elbiyan would be lucky to be in the same unit as even one person they knew already, and obedience to the commander came before any ties of blood or bond from before the soldier enlisted. If even the footsoldiers among the Murkuri had to think in such a complex hierarchy, he could understand why they seemed so good at outwitting the Elbiyan generals at every turn.

“So you are only related to Bethilde and Nannu here?” Wolfe asked. “Will they have roles at the wedding?”

“What? Why would they have anything to do with the wedding? That’s between you and me, and I suppose Kolbu and your father.” Rune shot him a confused look and Wolfe just shrugged, unwilling to invest the effort right now in explaining the Elbiyan customs. Rune didn’t press him, for which Wolfe was grateful, and the giant answered the other part of his question. “I am directly related to Bethilde and Nannu. Kolbu is my half-brother, as we had the same father. And Tryg is Bethilde and Nannu’s cousin through her father, so I think by your standards that makes us cousins as well? But not by Murkuri standards. And then, Sybane is my half-mother, and there are a few uncles and aunts and other cousins around back at your father’s hall with Kolbu. You don’t need to learn them all though. Bonds of blood are not so highly prized in Murku as they are here.”

“So then how do you know who inherits, and… well, I suppose allies are as you said.”

“You just choose someone.” Rune grinned. “That way if your children are shits, you can punish them for it from beyond the grave.”

Wolfe thought about that for a few minutes. If he completely ignored the obvious logic of keeping wealth in the same bloodline, as Elbiyans did, it did make a roundabout sort of sense. Rune glanced at him every now and then as he cooked, smiling, and Wolfe found he enjoyed the easy silence enough not to try and fill it with chatter. 

After what his stomach was convinced was an eon, Rune pulled the pot off the woodfire stove and deposited it carefully on the table. Wolfe craned his neck to see. 

The contents of the pot smelled even more delicious than what they’d eaten the night before, but it looked a little dubious. Wolfe couldn’t really tell what was in the stew as everything was obscured by a thick reddish-black sauce that glistened like honey, though Wolfe thought he could see a couple of seeds or grains poking out here and there. Beyond that, he was clueless. Rune watched him eyeing the pot with mild amusement in his eyes.

“Here.” He ripped off a small chunk of flatbread and dipped it into the stew. “Try it before your brain can convince you not to.”

Wolfe took the bread with a soft ‘thank you’ and stuck out his tongue to try the sauce. He braced himself for something strong, but instead found only the lightest hint of flavour. He licked again with growing confidence. It was vaguely floral, if a flavour could be floral, but after a few moments something sharp and hot took him by surprise. He pursed his lips. Rune was watching him. Not wanting to cause a further rift between them, Wolfe steeled himself and pushed the whole piece of bread into his mouth, chewing hard and praying the spice wouldn’t get any worse.

“It’s… uhh… it’s good,” he said once he’d swallowed. “Yes, it’s, I mean, it’s different what I’m used to, but I-I do like it.”

Rune nodded slowly.

“That’s good,” he replied. “Maybe I should have added more heat. I made it mild as I know your dishes here are without spice, but usually it is much hotter. The others will not be pleased at such a weak dish.”

Wolfe paled at the thought of more spice than what his tongue was currently dealing with. He shot Rune a nervous glance, wondering how he might get himself out of having to eat anything too hot, but he found the tiniest glimmer of mischief in the warrior’s deep dark eyes. He sighed.

“You’re playing with me,” Wolfe grumbled.

“Partially, yes,” the giant agreed. “Though the others will likely complain. But that’s alright. I will bring the  _ yvellin _ and they can add their own to their liking.”

Wolfe smiled at the light tease, then helped Rune serve up eight bowls and carry them out on trays to the dining hall. 

Just before they reached the hall, though, Wolfe faltered. Rune didn’t even need to look at him to know what was wrong.

“I have known Krig many years now,” he said softly as Wolfe subconsciously shifted on his feet. “She is not usually so aggressive. She will likely not eat with us today. If I know her at all, she will be off in the woods somewhere, feeling angry and ashamed at herself for her outburst. You do not need to worry.”

Wolfe shot him a tearful look, but he still nodded. Even if Krig was there, there was nothing he could do about it.

“I will protect you, Wolfe,” Rune added. “I promised you I would, and I will.”

Wolfe nodded again. He still didn’t feel convinced, but he knew they couldn’t linger in the corridor forever. Rune sighed and kept going, calling out in Murkuri as he went, and Wolfe scurried after him. Nannu and Skriev were already sitting at the table. They were flicking wooden hexagonal dice at each other, clearly following some sort of rules but not from any game Wolfe was familiar with. Adunn came in with two warriors who must be Artux and Ariete as they laid out the food. 

Wolfe took his plate and stuck close to Rune, grateful when the giant pulled him onto his lap to eat. As Rune predicted, Adunn and Skriev groaned at the lack of spice, though they quieted once Rune handed over the  _ yvellin _ . 

Throughout the meal, Wolfe found himself watching the doors uneasily, expecting Krig to come flying in and slit his throat. With how intently focused he was, he was genuinely shocked when Bethilde walked in. He squeaked and almost spilled his food. Bethilde gave him a strange look, then shook it off and grinned.

“We have brought the mother,” she announced. “And a few extras too.”

Wolfe’s heart leapt at her words, though his guts were churning with anxiety after the morning’s developments. The sudden fear that he had brought his mother to her doom struck him and would not ease. Rune rubbed his thigh discreetly, and Wolfe had to fight the urge to bat him away. He didn’t want his mother to walk in and see him being groped.

“Can I go greet her?” he asked. 

Rune glanced at their plates, Wolfe’s only half-eaten and his own almost wiped clean, then nodded. Wolfe climbed off his lap and was about to go find her when he remembered he was half naked. He flushed bright red, trying to think where he’d left his blanket from last night. 

“She can’t see me like this,” he choked out. 

Rune had never looked more stumped. He stared at Wolfe for several seconds as though trying to place what Wolfe meant, but Wolfe didn’t have time for that. He could hear women’s voices outside getting closer. With a horrified gasp, he turned on his heel and sprinted for the master bedroom. A couple of the warriors eating made startled noises and pushed their chairs back, but Rune said something in Murkuri and caught up with Wolfe before he reached the room.

“What do you need?” Rune asked.

Wolfe gestured frantically at his bare legs, running to the bed and ripping the sheet off to wrap around himself. Rune waited by the door, watching with a mixture of amusement and concern. Wolfe ignored him. The sheet was far too long, but he managed to wrap and tie it in such a way that it didn’t obstruct his movement too much. He had no idea where his stockings were but he could at least put his shoes on and hope no one noticed his bare foot between the buckle and the sole. 

“You look beautiful,” Rune told him from the door. From his tone, he still wasn’t sure what they were doing, but at least he wasn’t trying to stop him. Wolfe sighed and tugged at the sheet.

“Thank you,” he said. “Just as long as my mother doesn’t die of shock from seeing me in less than underwear.”

Rune gave him a quizzical look.

“She saw you in just braies getting fitted for your dresses,” he said.

“Yes but that’s… different, that was… uhh…”

Rune still looked confused but Wolfe didn’t have it in him to explain. He was just excited to see his mother again. Gathering up the long sheet so he wouldn’t trip, he let Rune lead him back to the dining hall.


	15. Chapter 15

“Wolfe!”

Cerise sounded full of emotions. She rushed to hug her son before he could properly analyse the nuance in her tone and wrapped her arms around him, shaking, and Wolfe only just caught a glimpse of other ladies in the doorway. He held Cerise tight and let a little of the tension he’d been carrying seep out of him, soothed by her maternal warmth and nurturing. 

“Mother,” he said. “I’m so glad to see you.”

When he pulled back, he was startled to see tears glimmering in his mother’s dark eyes. His brows knit in concern.

“I was so worried,” Cerise said. “After you ran, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep at all, I couldn’t stop thinking of you all alone out here.”

Wolfe opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t alone, so no need to worry, but he caught her meaning a second before he spoke. He was all alone  _ with them. _

“I’m perfectly alright,” he assured her. “But my dress got muddy, so I’ve had to improvise.”

Cerise looked him over, distracted, and nodded. 

“We have brought more dresses,” she replied. “Gwynaforth finished a couple, and made a proper ladies’ chemise and stockings as well. Come, ladies.” 

That last was addressed to the five women that Wolfe saw waiting behind his mother, including Elowen. Cerise took Wolfe by the arm and led him away without asking leave. Wolfe felt his heart flutter at her daring. Rune followed them without comment, along with Nannu and Artux. Wolfe saw his mother cast a nervous glance at the warriors but she kept her head high.

“We’ve been staying in the master bedroom,” Wolfe told her. “My green dress is hanging up in there.”

Cerise nodded and led the group down the hall. Wolfe felt a little strange at the head of such a procession, but the mood shifted to something more relaxed when they crowded into the room. The Murkuri leaned against the wall while Cerise, Wolfe and Elowen took the chairs and the ladies’ maids got to work straightening the covers and setting the room to rights. Wolfe noticed Artux peel away and follow one of the women as she took the ewer and went to fill it.

“We should have brought more servants,” Cerise muttered as she settled herself on her chair. “With the ones who followed us, there are at least twenty guests now. How will we manage?”

“It’s alright, Mother,” Wolfe said. “It’s actually not that bad.”

Cerise sniffed, then glanced at Rune and Nannu.

“Might we have some privacy?” she asked.

Nannu made to leave, but Rune caught her by the wrist and held her back, grinning at Cerise.

“No,” he said. “We don’t want you plotting in here.”

“We do like to plot,” Elowen agreed, and both Wolfe and Cerise stared at her. She gave a cheeky grin. “Oh, Mother, relax. Just pretend they’re servants. It’s not like they really care anyway.”

Rune chuckled quietly and Cerise gave a frustrated sigh through her nose. Wolfe wondered why his mother had seen fit to bring Elowen, given how spirited she’d become since reaching womanhood, but he knew better than to ask. 

“Perhaps once Bethilde has finished eating, she and Nannu can guard you,” Rune relented. “If you’re worried about me listening in on ‘women’s things’.”

“That is exactly what I’m worried about,” Cerise retorted. “Elowen, for goodness’ sake, even the barbarian has more propriety than you right now.”

Elowen just smiled and said nothing. After a disapproving stare at her daughter, Cerise turned her attention back on Wolfe, softening as she did so.

“Once they’ve brought our luggage up, we can get you dressed, dear,” she said. “I’m so pleased with what Gwynaforth has done. I think they’ll suit you magnificently.”

“Has she started on the wedding dress yet?” Rune interjected. “I am eager to see it.”

Cerise pursed her lips, casting Rune a disapproving glance, but then she nodded.

“She has. But,” she narrowed her eyes at Rune, “you are not allowed to see it until the wedding. It’s bad luck otherwise.”

“Can you at least describe it to me?” Rune asked. “What colour is it?”

Cerise gave a sigh and a frustrated pause, eyeing him with equal parts suspicion and trepidation. Wolfe wondered what might be going through her head. He was tempted to reassure her, but thought better of it. If he spoke too well of the Murkuri he felt sure his mother would guess at what had transpired, though it was the furthest thing from likely and he couldn’t explain his anxiety by any rational means.

“The cloth is rough silk dyed pale with woad,” Cerise said at length. “Off-the-shoulder, with slit trumpet sleeves fastened at the shoulder with gold fleur clasps and gold stitching along the bodice. Simple, but elegant. Satisfied?”

Rune blinked at the onslaught of words. Wolfe didn’t blame him. Elbiyan was his first language and even he couldn’t figure out exactly what his mother had said.

“So it’s… blue?” Rune asked after a moment. 

“Yes. It’s blue.” Cerise pursed her lips at him again, then turned back to Wolfe. “Arrangements are coming along well for the big day, too,” she told him. “Luckily, it’s spring, so we have a good selection of flowers, and there is plenty of excess to feast on in the stores. Unfortunately, my harpist was injured in the raid. But his apprentice is learning well and assures me he will be ready in time for the ceremony. Now, let’s see, what else…”

“She’s been having such a good time,” Elowen told him. 

“I have not!” Cerise scowled at her daughter. “There is nothing enjoyable about preparing to lose a son like this. But, if it is to be, then it shall be done properly.”

“I hope that doesn’t include guests.” Wolfe suddenly remembered Petar’s wedding. Over three hundred nobles had attended, along with heralds and bards to go forth and spread word of the occasion. 

“No, of course not,” Cerise admitted, and Wolfe gave a sigh of relief. “Only family. Unless this one wants to invite his whole  _ clan _ , or whatever they call themselves.”

Wolfe shot an uneasy look at Rune, but the giant was smiling, looking for all the world like he was watching the greatest comedic play of all time and just waiting for the next punchline. 

“I will make sure only my family attend as well,” he assured them. “Though I suspect Kolbu will want as many present at the feast as possible.”

“That’s true,” Cerise agreed. “And he has not stopped talking about the surety, so I’m afraid you’ll probably have to contend with that as well.”

Rune made an annoyed noise and sighed, and Wolfe once again found a flicker of hope in his chest.

“Could you not convince him to forgo it?” he asked. “I… it scares me. I don’t want it.”

Rune sighed again and chewed the inside of his cheek. Wolfe was so focused on Rune that he almost missed the shrewd look his mother cast at them both, but she said nothing as Rune thought it over.

“I can try,” he agreed. “But I do not think he will be moved. He is angry at your lord for how he treated us. Kolbu wanted to negotiate, maybe begin a tenuous peace between our people. He does not like to be thwarted. But he knows it’s not fair to inflict that on you, so maybe he will listen.”

Wolfe tried not to let his disappointment show on his face, but Cerise swooped in to reply in his stead.

“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your efforts on my son’s behalf.”

“He is to be my wife soon.” Rune shrugged. “I do not aim to be cruel.”

“From what I heard, you got very drunk the other night,” Elowen said. “Maybe you could just do that. You might even pass out. Then you won’t have to witness it, or suffer the pain of it until you wake.”

“It won’t hurt.” Rune pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer to where they sat. “There are ways to prepare a man for that, and I know them well. You could be stone cold sober and feel no pain from it. Do women not have such methods as well here?”

All three looked to Cerise, who flushed at the question.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she sputtered. “Women in Elbiya are chaste until their husband needs them, and the men certainly don’t go around…  _ needing _ each other.”

Wolfe knew in that instant that his mother was lying, but he couldn’t very well get to his knees and beg her to reveal the secrets that might spare him blood on his wedding night in front of Rune. He hoped she would tell him once Rune was gone, assuming Bethilde and Nannu agreed to guard them. 

“Really?” Rune was asking, his tone incredulous. “Well, no wonder you’re all like that then. It’s quite simple. All you need to do is, with your fingers—”

“Enough!” Cerise sounded borderline hysterical. “We do not discuss such sinful things, even if you are a barbarian.”

“Oh, come now, Mother.” Elowen sounded dangerously interested. “Surely there’s no harm in just discussing it?”

“Absolutely not,” Cerise snapped. “No wonder you’ve been so caught up with that filthy boy, if this is how easy it is to corrupt you.”

“What boy?” Wolfe asked, aghast.

“Don’t worry, dear, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing! I’m in love.”

“Ridiculous! You’ve only known him two days, and he’s a barbarian, Elowen, please.”

Wolfe watched with wide eyes as the pieces clicked into place. The gangly youth he’d seen talking to his sister the day before… it had to be him. 

“Better a barbarian who makes me feel like he does than some stuffy old lord you and father decide on,” Elowen scoffed. “Bojar said he’ll sacrifice a dove every day to the gods until we’re wed. He said he’s never felt this way about anyone before, and I feel the same about him.”

“Wolfe, please, talk some sense into your sister,” Cerise begged. Wolfe opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Mother, that would be a bit hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” he said after a moment. “After all, I’m marrying…”

Wolfe turned to look at Rune and trailed off when he found Nannu, Artux, and two warriors he didn’t recognise standing beside his future husband. All three Elbiyan nobles fell silent immediately, though Elowen’s body shook with suppressed laughter. Wolfe marvelled at her.

“These two have brought up your luggage,” Rune said after a few moments of silence. “And some others have cooked the game Artux and his brother caught. Would you like to eat?”

“Yes, thank you.” Cerise was flushed and terse. “Wolfe can get into some proper clothes and then we will take our luncheon here.”

“Wolfe can get dressed,” Rune agreed. “But you will eat in the hall with everyone.”

Cerise huffed a breath out through her nose, her cheeks still tinged pink, then cast a stiff, regal look at Rune.

“Very well then,” she agreed.

It was decided that the servants would help Wolfe get dressed while Elowen and Cerise went to eat, and a few minutes later Wolfe found himself alone with Rune and two of his mother’s servants. As lovely as it was to see his mother and sister, the intensity of their conversation had left him drained. He was grateful for Rune’s silence as the women stripped him of his tunic and bedsheet so he could wear fresh braies, then got to work. They were far better prepared now than when he’d first donned a gown. 

Rune sat on the freshly-made bed and watched as the women scraped the dirt from beneath Wolfe’s nails and buffed them to a neat, even shine. Wolfe noted they’d even coiled the chain he’d been bound with into a tidy coil at the foot of the mattress. He met Rune’s eye and found his heart fluttering at the warm interest he found in the warrior’s gaze. Despite being naked, he realised he was more at ease with the giant’s attention. And Rune did keep insisting that their wedding night need not hurt him. Perhaps it was alright, so long as he kept it secret how easy it was to allow Rune to enjoy him.

He was so caught up with his thoughts that he didn’t notice one of the women advancing on him with tweezers until she’d plucked the first hair.

“Ouch!” he cried. “What are you doing?!”

“Begging your pardon, my lord,” she replied. “But your mother said to prepare you as any other lady. We must shape your eyebrows.”

Wolfe stared at her in horror as she reached out again, but Rune interrupted.

“He’s not a lady,” the giant said. “If he doesn’t want that done, do not force him. I have no problem with him keeping some of his masculinity.”

“But Lady Cerise said…”

“I shall explain it to her,” Rune assured them. “Unless Wolfe decides he would like it done.”

Wolfe chewed his inner lip for a moment. He had no doubt it would make the whole effect more feminine, but it was the first thing that couldn’t be undone with some water or by taking something off. The hairs would take weeks to grow back. He wasn’t sure he was ready for such a step.

“Maybe for the wedding,” he decided. “But if Rune doesn’t mind, then I’d rather wait.”

The servants looked worried, but they put the tweezers away and got on with the rest of the process. They led him to the basin and rubbed sweet-smelling goo on his face, then rinsed it off and dabbed fragrant oil all over him, leaving him feeling strangely light and bubbly. They softened his lips with a thick cream and brushed it away with a fine-bristled brush. When he pressed his lips together, Wolfe found that all the dead skin was gone. 

And then came the chemise. Unlike men’s undergarments, which were loose and purely functional, the chemise he was presented with was soft and embroidered with dainty blue and yellow flowers at the hems, an intricate drawstring at the back tightening the fabric until it sat snug against his sides. Rune stopped them a moment to come and examine it.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, and Wolfe had to stop himself smiling too wide at the compliment. He certainly  _ felt _ beautiful. If not for Rune and the servants, he might have given a twirl, just to see what it felt like to have the long skirts swish and pull around his ankles.

The dresses presented to him to choose from were even more sumptuous. One was raw silk in a soft violet shade, the other velvet and dyed so that the blue hem was dark and the dress slowly lightened to periwinkle at the top. The silk was adorned with coloured glass beads and precious stones on the shoulders in a winding pattern with slim sleeves and a more fitted waist, whereas the velvet was embroidered with gold and silver down the front and along the seam of its cape sleeves. 

“I like the purple,” Rune said, and Wolfe had to agree with him, though he wished he could wear both at once. 

He chased any such shameful thoughts from his mind as the servants dressed him. As the day before, the luxurious fabric hanging off his hips filled him with soft joy. He made sure to keep his face stoic as the servants arranged a plain, opaque veil over his head and held it in place with a circlet, scented him with more of his mother’s perfume, then strung gold and glass beads around his neck and painted his face. They hung the beeswax from his girdle before stepping back to allow him to admire their work. 

Wolfe was even more taken with his appearance than he had been in the green dress. Knowing there was no one here who would judge him or that he need impress lifted the weight off his shoulders and let him just enjoy how the gown made him feel. It was easier to imagine himself as Rune’s bride like this. If not for his Adam’s apple and the broader set of his shoulders, he might be a blushing maid ready to wed a fierce warrior and bear him a dozen children. 

“Can I stay here a moment before going down?” he asked. “I… it’s been a difficult few days. I’d like some quiet to collect myself, alone.”

The servants had already left while he examined himself, but Rune was still sitting on the bed. The giant’s gaze hadn’t left his body since he’d donned the chemise, and Wolfe found it was now lingering over his arse. He ignored the squirm of delight at how much Rune seemed to enjoy him in women’s clothes as well.

“Of course,” Rune replied. “But I’ll have to chain you. We’re not taking any chances.”

Wolfe nodded, unbothered. He had no intention of running. Rune uncoiled the chain and fastened it around his ankle, as he had done the night before, then rose.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said. “Just call when you’re ready.”

Wolfe smiled as the giant closed the door behind him, then sat on the bed and let himself fall back onto the mattress with a sigh. The silence around him felt sweet and soothing. He could happily lay there all day and just soak it in. He didn’t know how long Rune would wait patiently outside, but he wasn’t about to rush himself. The only time he usually got to just  _ be _ like this was as he went to sleep, and the previous two nights that had been less than restful. He let his mind wander as he lay on the bed.

Wolfe wasn’t sure how long he’d been there when he heard the scrape of wood against wood, but he knew it had been a while. He sat up and turned to the door, expecting to see Rune, but the door was still closed. Frowning, he turned again, then gasped as he saw a hand reach in from the balcony. He opened his mouth to scream, but the sound died in his throat as the intruder stepped in and he recognised Leon. He was dressed in what Wolfe could only describe as burglar’s clothes, his hair wrapped under a bandana and his shoes muffled with cloth, the rest of his clothing dark and plain except for the dagger at his belt.

“My lord,” the knight said, stopping in his tracks. “I didn’t expect… by the gods, my lord, what have they done to you?”

Wolfe flushed with shame and opened his mouth to reply, but froze when Leon reached for his blade.

“Leon?” he asked quietly. “What are you doing?”

Leon met his gaze and Wolfe was shocked to see tears glimmering in his father’s knight’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” He drew the blade and rushed forward. “Please, forgive me!”


	16. Chapter 16

Wolfe stared in shock as his father’s knight ran at him, but he had the sense to duck as Leon slashed with the dagger. As he stumbled back he slipped on his ankle chain. He crashed to the floor and, before he could right himself, Leon was on him, straddling his waist and pinning him. Wolfe raised his arms to shield himself but he knew it would do him little good if Leon stabbed him hard enough. The knight had a wild look in his eye as he stared down at Wolfe, the dagger raised above his head. Wolfe finally found his voice through the shock.

“Rune!” he screamed. “Rune! Help!”

He’d barely finished saying the giant’s name when the door crashed open. Rune didn’t pause, instead giving a fierce roar and charging. Leon jumped to his feet and dragged Wolfe with him. He raised the blade as though to barter Wolfe’s life for his own safety, but Rune didn’t stop. Wolfe shrieked as the giant hurtled towards them. He heard Leon curse from behind him as he lost his nerve and shoved Wolfe away. By the time Wolfe turned to look, Rune was vaulting the balcony and vanishing after his assailant. 

Wolfe rushed as far forward as the chain would allow and managed to catch a glimpse of the pair as Leon seemed to accidentally box himself in between the lodge, thick trees and the lake. Dread shifted in Wolfe’s stomach as Rune caught up to him. After what he’d done to the men the day before, Wolfe knew what Rune would do next. He didn’t want to see it but found he couldn’t look away no matter how hard he tried.

But Leon was prepared. He dove for a thicket by the shore and reemerged with another blade, this one longer. Wolfe suddenly realised Rune was unarmed. Probably to stop Wolfe stealing his weapons and making an escape, he realised in the next moment. Horror screamed in his mind as Leon rallied, circling and snarling. He’d seen Leon fight many times. There was a reason he was Lord Almary’s right-hand man, and Wolfe knew without a doubt that Rune would struggle to emerge victorious with the odds so stacked against him, no matter his size or skill. 

Conflict warred in Wolfe’s heart as Leon lunged and Rune just managed to evade, the blade sickeningly close to slicing his neck. 

He shouldn’t care, Wolfe told himself. His father’s knight was fighting an enemy soldier and he shouldn’t want Rune to win, especially knowing what he would do to Leon. But the memory of his soft smile in the morning light, the way he held Wolfe close and soothed him with gentle words after Krig attacked him, all flashed before his mind’s eye and his heart shattered at the thought that he might never feel Rune’s warmth again. He had to help. He had to save Rune. If he left it any longer, he would never forgive himself, so he opened his mouth to shout for the others.

Before he could call out, an arrow flew from the trees. It missed both fighters but succeeded in startling Leon. Rune used his distraction to try and grab him, but Leon was fast, dancing back and staying out of Rune’s considerable reach. The fight could still go either way, or so Wolfe hoped, but then a figure darted out of the forest. They dove at Leon’s knees and then kept going, rolling out of range. Leon shrieked and crumpled. Blood soaked the back of his trousers and rolled down his leg to form a puddle of stark red against the pale lakeside dirt. 

From the lodge below, someone shouted, and then Wolfe heard footsteps slamming and doors crashing open. The figure who’d swooped in and hobbled Leon straightened up and Wolfe was shocked to recognise Krig’s long dark braid and weathered armour. More Murkuri appeared, weapons drawn. Leon shouted obscenities, refusing to relinquish his blade. Wolfe couldn’t decide if he was relieved or horrified at the outcome.

Behind him, Wolfe heard more footsteps, and then his mother tackled him and pulled him into an embrace.

“Wolfe— oh, Wolfe, thank the gods, thank the gods…”

At his mother’s tears Wolfe felt himself crumble as well. He held her tight and sobbed as shouts rang out below, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the brutality being inflicted on his father’s knight. He didn’t have to watch to know Rune was doing worse than just killing him.

By the time the Murkuri had finished, Wolfe and his mother were a mess. One of the warriors had shouted questions as Rune inflicted untold suffering on the knight, and eventually he’d gurgled out replies. It had been hard to understand him in between the gruesome snap and crunch of bone. 

Wolfe couldn’t wrap his head around what had happened. One minute he’d been lying peacefully on the bed, enjoying the solitude, and the next he’d been assaulted, then nearly died of grief at the prospect of losing Rune. His mother tried gently to coax what had happened from him, but he couldn’t find the words, so she’d fallen silent and just held him. When the Murkuri arrived at the door, he barely glanced up, dread heavy in his chest.

“Your husband,” Rune spat at Cerise. “Sent an assassin to kill your son. Said he came with you. What do you say to that?”

Cerise went pale, her face green around the edges, as she stared up from the floor at Rune’s dark, angry face. 

“I didn’t know!” she rasped. “I-I-I didn’t know, I swear!”

“Didn’t know what, hm?” Rune demanded. “That he was here to kill your son, or that he had orders to kill as many others as he could while he was here, including you and your daughter?”

“I… please, I didn’t— I didn’t know…”

“Rune, he did not travel in the carriage, he must have just tracked us,” Bethilde tried, but Rune ignored her.

“How could he come along without her knowing?” the giant demanded, and Wolfe felt a shudder of fear pass over him. He clutched Cerise tighter.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” he cried. “Look at her, do you really think she knew? Do you really think she’s that sort of mother?”

The room fell silent at Wolfe’s shout. Every Murkuri present stared at him, some shocked, others venomous. Cerise gasped and shook in his arms. Wolfe trembled, but he managed to hold Rune’s furious gaze as the giant processed what Wolfe said. Wolfe had never feared more for his life than staring up at Rune’s coal-dark eyes in that moment.

Tryg stepped forward and spoke in quiet tones to Rune, and something flickered in the giant’s eyes, but Wolfe was too overwrought to decipher it. He was just grateful when Rune turned and left. 

“Try to calm down,” Bethilde told them. “We will have questions for you in a few minutes.”

Artux and Nannu stayed by the door, but the rest of the Murkuri left, presumably to discuss Leon’s assassination attempt. Cerise took a gulping gasp as the room fell quiet.

“Wolfe, listen to me.” She sounded faint and panicked, but there was no mistaking the fire in her voice. “If it comes down to it, you must protect yourself and Elowen. I don’t know how long we have.”

Wolfe clung to his mother as her wild dark eyes flickered towards Nannu and Artux, both of whom were watching them intently.

“Did you know?” Wolfe asked. “Did you help father try to kill me?”

“What?!” Cerise shot him a shocked glare, then shook her head. “No, no, of course not — but I’m not surprised he tried. Of course he would think death the better option.” She rolled her eyes, and Wolfe was startled at the bitterness in her tone. “But it’s not. Wolfe, listen to me very carefully. Forget what you’ve learned about your honour. Do you understand? I may not know Murkuri, but I do know men. That savage you’re set to marry, he… it might not be so bad. If you were a woman I would say you were very lucky. He seems… manageable, but you cannot rely on his nature alone.”

“Mother, what are you saying?” Wolfe tried to pull apart the information but his mind was reeling. “What do you mean, ‘rely on his nature’?”

Cerise trembled and muttered a curse under her breath. Wolfe gawped. He’d never heard his mother swear in his life. She pressed a kiss into his forehead and smoothed his hair with trembling hands, holding him close.

“Men make the rules in this world,” she said. “And women are expected to obey. But when it comes down to it, you must do what’s necessary. To survive. You are treated as a woman now and he wants you, Wolfe. He has offered to be... gentle. Do whatever you have to to keep it that way.”

A glimmer of understanding lit in Wolfe’s mind. He cast Cerise a shocked look, unsure he’d understood correctly. But his mother looked determined. She clasped his hand with both of hers and gave him a watery smile.

“Let him love you, Wolfe. Whatever that means to him, you must endure it. And don’t ever,” she paused and gulped, “ _ ever _ let his interest wane. The day he takes another to his bed, you might as well drop dead on the spot. You cannot rely on his honour then, nor will you have children to leverage for your safety. Don’t try to fight him. Don’t let him sour towards you, no matter the cost to your… your spirit, or your dignity.”

Wolfe trembled. He knew what his mother was saying, but the horror of it came in waves. If Rune lost interest in him… or soured... 

Wolfe felt his heart break as he recalled the warrior’s tone in the kitchen. He had thought he was doing the right thing, preserving his honour, but if he took his mother at her word then he might already have made a fatal mistake. The anger in Rune’s eyes as he stared down at them just before was new. His stomach lurched as he realised it was all slipping from his control. Then the reason his mother was telling him all this in such a hurry dawned on him and he felt the blood drain from his face.

“Mother, I won’t let him hurt you,” Wolfe promised. “You’ve done nothing wrong! He will have to believe us, he has no proof.”

Cerise smiled and nodded, but Wolfe could tell she didn’t believe him. Wolfe wasn’t entirely sure himself. Overall Rune seemed fair and honourable, but Wolfe had never seen him so furious. He prayed he could make Rune see sense even after everything that had passed between them. 

Wolfe didn’t know how long he and his mother sat trembling on the floor together, but his heart leapt when the door scraped open. Waiting was fraying his nerves. He just wanted to talk to Rune and find out exactly how bad the situation was. 

But it was not Rune. Krig and Adunn shoved Elowen and the servants into the room and spoke in Murkuri to Artux and Nannu. Wolfe gathered his courage, cringing at Krig’s presence.

“M-may I speak with Rune soon, please?” he asked. 

The Murkuri glanced down at him, and for a moment Wolfe thought they might strike him, but then Nannu spoke up.

“Rune has left,” she told him. 

Wolfe’s heart pounded painfully at the news, but he swallowed it down and nodded. He exchanged a glance with his mother. She looked as nervous as he felt. He was about to ask another question when Nannu muttered something in Murkuri to Krig. Wolfe trembled as the lean warrior glared at him and walked forward.

“Krig, I’m sorry, I-I swear I didn’t do anything to—”

“Quiet, Elbiya,” she snapped. “I need to say something to you.”

Wolfe cowered back against the foot of the bed. Krig made a frustrated noise and glared at Nannu, but the younger warrior just glared back and Krig seemed to relent.

“I am sorry for doing what I did earlier.” Krig sounded like each word cut her tongue to speak, but Wolfe remembered what Rune had said. Krig was proud. He stayed silent and gave her the space to speak. “I was overcome by my own situation and I took it out on you, but there is no honour in that. It was… weakness on my part. It will not happen again.”

Wolfe stared up at Krig with owlish eyes after she finished speaking. Given how Rune had spoken of her, he judged the apology genuine, but he had no idea what to say to it. He didn’t want to anger her all over again. Krig scowled more the longer he stayed silent.

“Well?” she demanded, ignoring how Nannu shushed her. “Do you accept my apology, Elbiya? Or will you challenge it?”

“What?!” Wolfe squeaked. “N-no, no, I… I don’t want to challenge you! Uhh… I… I accept it, thank you, K-Krig. Um…” He cast around for the words to prove they were at peace. “I think your man would be very lucky to have you, if you feel so strongly about him.”

Krig blinked in surprise and muttered something in a confused tone in Murkuri, then grumbled and stalked off. Wolfe sagged back against the foot of the bed. Nannu and Artux were watching him with concern.

“She is not in love with a man, Elbiya,” Nannu explained. 

“Oh,” Wolfe said quickly. “Well, uh… I’m… I’m glad we’re friends again.”

Artux looked like he was about to say something, but Nannu cut across him.

“Yes, it is good,” she agreed. “You should make yourselves comfortable here. We will board up the balcony door, for your protection, and you will all stay here tonight.”

Wolfe managed a small smile and a nod, then turned to his mother. Elowen and the servants were huddled over by the lace screen. They came over and helped Cerise onto the bed, her limbs trembling, and stood clear as Nannu and Skriev blocked off the balcony with planks and nails. Adunn and Artux watched over them as though expecting them to bolt or attack, but Wolfe knew none of the Elbiyans present would have the stomach for it even if he weren’t still chained to the bed. 

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. Wolfe explained to Elowen what had happened, but instead of the outrage he was expecting from her, she just got a dark look in her eye and kept quiet. Wolfe wondered what she was thinking about. He tried to subtly enquire, but he didn’t dare risk bringing forth her rage with Nannu, Adunn and Skriev playing dice in the corner. 

Wolfe felt certain Rune would come back before nightfall, but the hours ticked on and still there was no sign of him. His heart sank as the Murkuri dragged in two extra mattresses and some blankets, leaving the Elbiyans to figure out how they would sleep. Wolfe let Elowen give the orders. Cerise was still in shock on the bed, and he was exhausted. His sister quickly organised them. She would sleep next to him, two of the servants would take the other mattress, and the remaining two would sleep either side of Cerise in the large master bed, to try and comfort her.

Wolfe had no complaints. He realised that the only person who truly wanted beside him that night was Rune, and there was precious little chance of that now.

By the time he was lying down on the mattress beside his sister, he had lost all hope of salvaging things with the giant. He tried not to let his sobs disturb the others as he cried himself to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

By the time it was mid-morning, Wolfe was despondent. He’d woken in better spirits and tried to put aside his feelings and think about things rationally. Rune would marry him regardless of his feelings towards him. And much as he was a warrior, he had seemed genuine when he said he didn’t want to be stuck with a sulking hag. All he needed was one conversation with Rune, he was sure of it, and then everything would be alright. 

But the giant didn’t appear. Wolfe noted that he didn’t see Tryg or Bethilde either and wondered if his future husband was with his cousins somewhere. He  _ hoped _ he was. He was fairly certain Tryg and Bethilde liked him, at least enough that they wouldn’t make things worse on purpose. But it would be better if Wolfe could speak to him directly.

At one point Skriev leaned in to speak to him in between games of dice with Artux and Nannu. Wolfe braced himself, wary.

“You know, Elbiya,” Skriev said. “If Rune is not to your liking, I am still happy to wed you. Kolbu will listen if you tell him we’re in love.”

He placed one strong, bony hand on Wolfe’s knee as he spoke, and Wolfe had to fight not to pull it away. He gave a polite smile.

“But what if Rune is to my liking?” he replied. “What if I’m in love with  _ him _ ?”

Skriev sighed and nodded, removing his hand. 

“Worth a shot,” he decided out loud. 

Artux chuckled softly, as though the interaction was only what he expected. Nannu just rolled her eyes and gestured impatiently at their game. Wolfe huddled a little closer to his mother and sister, expecting something worse to follow, but it seemed Skriev was content to move on. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted it.

“He will return,” Cerise assured him. “If nothing else, you are to be wed to him. He must be present for the ceremony, at least.”

Wolfe’s heart sank even further at the thought of not seeing Rune for a week and a half, but he knew his mother was right. He tried to put on a brave face and nod as though he wasn’t bothered. His mother gave him a sympathetic smile.

“How come Wolfe is allowed to fall in love with a barbarian but I’m not?” Elowen grumbled. “At least mine cares if I want to marry him or not.”

“Elowen, please,” Cerise snapped. “This is not the time. Besides, Wolfe isn’t in love, he’s just pretending.”

But Elowen wasn’t listening. She rose from her chair and headed for the Murkuri. Wolfe stared in shock as she went, barely hearing how Cerise gave a furious gasp.

“Excuse me,” Elowen said. “Do you know Bojar of the Joddeheim Plains? He is my beloved.”

The Murkuri paused their game to look up at her, then conversed amongst themselves until Artux spoke up.

“I believe I know the youth in question,” he replied. “But he is not here.”

“No, I know.” Elowen sounded exasperated. “He wanted to be in the guard but Mother forbade it. I was hoping I could prevail upon one of you fine gentlem… err, one of you fine warriors to deliver a message to him for me.”

Artux’s face remained impassive, but Skriev was listening intently, and Nannu looked amused. Wolfe couldn’t believe how reckless his sister had become. He held his breath as she negotiated.

“I would pay you, of course,” she said. “I have this, and some coins back at the hall.”

She removed the small jewelled ring she wore on her little finger and held it up. 

“I cannot, unfortunately,” Nannu told her. “Rune left me in charge.”

“I have no interest,” Artux decided.

Elowen turned to Skriev, and Wolfe was startled at how her eyes widened to beseech him. Skriev chuckled, then reached out and took the ring to examine it. He turned it from side to side in the light so that the little blue gem sparkled. 

“Pretty thing,” he commented. “I suppose it is worth a journey to me. Are you sure he is at the hall?”

“No,” Elowen admitted. “But if you find him, I will reward you further once I can get my coins, and you will have my eternal gratitude.”

Skriev gave a dramatic sigh, then nodded and rose.

“Hey!” Nannu complained, then said something in Murkuri. Skriev shrugged and replied, then left. Artux was already resetting their game. Elowen turned back to Wolfe and Cerise and smiled sweetly, plopping down on a chair and interlacing her fingers in her lap. Cerise pursed her lips and glared daggers at her daughter, then sniffed.

“Honestly, Elowen, you don’t even know what to do with a man,” she scoffed. “You’re still a child.”

“I’m sure Bojar has some ideas.” Elowen looked far too pleased with herself. “He’s shared some with me already while we rode.”

“Disgusting.” Cerise clicked her tongue. “You’d best forget everything he said. No noble Elbiyan man would be interested in whatever filthy things these savages get up to.”

Wolfe cast a worried look at Artux and Nannu, but it seemed they’d chosen to ignore the disparaging comment, though Artux was shooting them sideways glances.

“Um… I might need to know what they like,” Wolfe said. 

“I can tell you,” Artux offered, almost too fast. Nannu elbowed him and scowled, but Artux seemed unbothered. “What? I know exactly what he needs to know.”

“There will be no need for that,” Cerise said. “Wolfe must behave as a lady now, and ladies do not interest themselves in lechery.”

She gave Elowen a hard stare. The younger lady sighed but didn’t offer any rebuttal. While Cerise and Elowen were distracted, Artux gave Wolfe a meaningful look. Wolfe smiled back but he was uneasy. He had practically no knowledge of the warrior. From what he could tell, he and his brother kept mostly to themselves, though he supposed that wasn’t strange, given what Rune had told him about the groups within groups in the Murkuri army. Even so, Wolfe felt much more at ease with his brother, who at least joked and talked a little in the hothouse and over meals. Perhaps Artux was just quiet. Either way, he could tell he wouldn’t get anything out of Elowen with his mother sitting in. And he did so desperately want to know how to make things right with Rune when he got the chance.

“Is it possible for me to take some air?” he asked. “It’s a little stuffy in here, and I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.”

“Oh, that sounds marvellous!” Cerise smiled and made to rise. “Just what we all need. It’s not natural, you know, to be cooped up like this…”

“One at a time,” Artux said. “And not for long.”

Wolfe could see his mother wanted to argue, but she held her tongue. He was glad Artux seemed to understand their silent agreement. He held his leg out after Nannu had produced the key to his chain, then followed Artux from the room. He fidgeted nervously as they passed through the common areas. Adunn, Ariete and Krig were there, but there were more warriors who must have arrived with Cerise and Elowen that he didn’t recognise. Some watched him as he went, but most were busy talking or playing their dice game. Artux stopped and Wolfe did too, watching as the warrior called his brother over and spoke in low tones with him. Wolfe hoped he had not misjudged the situation as Ariete let his gaze rove over him. Rune was nowhere near enough to save him if something happened…

His fears proved unfounded a minute later when Ariete called a couple more warriors and they walked off the way Wolfe and Artux had just come. 

He followed Artux out into the lodge’s small courtyard and down towards the hothouse, realising it actually did feel good to get out of the room. He wondered how to approach the conversation with Artux. If he’d understood correctly, the warrior was going to educate him about how to please Rune sexually. It was an awkward, delicate conversation, to say the least.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. They reached a rough wooden bench between the lake and the hothouse and Artux launched into a monologue.

“You are a virgin, correct?” he said by way of opener. “But no doubt you have imagined what you would want done to you when you touch yourself. I know your mother thinks we are all vile and depraved. She is wrong. We like the same things Elbiyans like. But, to be sure, you can discuss it with me. What do you think of when you touch yourself?”

Wolfe’s mouth fell open in shock and he could do nothing but stare at Artux for several seconds. The Murkuri were, in general, more outgoing and direct than most Elbiyans, but Artux was on another level entirely. He’d spoken barely two sentences to Wolfe in the entire time the Murkuri had occupied Tithdale, and yet he felt comfortable asking Wolfe for intimate details of his sexual fantasies. To say Wolfe was flustered was an understatement.

“Oh, I… uhhh… j-just the usual, I suppose,” he tried, not even sure what ‘the usual’ might be.

“Yes, of course,” Artux agreed. “But which ones do you like best?”

Wolfe gaped, hoping his mouth would do the work, but his mind came up with nothing to feed it. Artux looked like he was getting impatient.

“Blowjobs, handjobs?” he prompted. “Do you ever finger yourself?”

“Stop!” Wolfe spluttered. “I… uhh, I appreciate your help, but, um… I’m sorry, I don’t think this is helping.”

Artux gave a frustrated sigh and furrowed his brow. Wolfe sat rigid, unsure what to do and suddenly self-conscious again about his dress.

“Don’t worry,” he said after a minute. “It was the same with Leaf when I first met him. He pretended like he had never even thought of sex before, especially not with a man. But he did tell me eventually that he had. So it must be the same with you, no? So let’s skip the lying and just figure out what you want to do.”

“Uhh… who’s Leaf?” Wolfe asked, eager to divert the conversation. He could sort of see the sense in what Artux was saying but he needed a little time to process it. He chose to ignore the comment about him lying.

“My beloved,” Artux told him. “He is Elbiyan, just like you.”

Wolfe tried to hide his surprise at the news that he wasn’t the first of his people to find themselves in such an arrangement. He thought he would have heard about another lord being taken, but he supposed it wasn’t the sort of thing most families would want getting out. Still, if there was another Elbiyan forced to wed, there was a chance he might have an ally once Rune had taken him. The prospect of not being carted off to languish completely alone in some cell even if he couldn’t reconcile with Rune brought him comfort.

“Oh, I see,” he said carefully. “How did that come about?”

“He was a soldier.” Artux nodded slowly. Something about his movements seemed off, but Wolfe couldn’t place what exactly, only that he found it a little unnerving. “He was being persecuted by his comrades, and they arranged for me to fuck him. I did not know he was unwilling, but he enjoyed it well enough. And then I took him with me.”

“O-oh, so… is he with you in Tithdale then?”

“No.” Artux shook his head. “I would not bring him to such a dangerous place. He is at home, minding the tent. He helps organise supplies for us so he’s probably doing that.”

Wolfe stopped short at that. If Leaf was involved in the running of the camp, it didn’t sound like he was a prisoner. He took a moment to try and sort out his next question without being insensitive.

“So, after you took him, how long was it until he got a job?” That sounded neutral enough, or so Wolfe hoped. “I would like to be useful once I am wed, too. I don’t like to be idle.”

Artux grinned at that and nodded slowly.

“See, I told Ariete you would be good for Rune,” he said. “You are just like Leaf. Actually, I gave him back to his commander after a few days. I did not want to, but we had a deal. But then, barely a week later, he ran away!” Artux grinned and his delight shone from every corner of his face. “We had moved on by then but he still found me. And then he befriended some people and they let him help out. It wasn’t on the first day, but it wasn’t that long either. Maybe a couple of weeks.”

Wolfe fell silent to mull over what Artux had said and sort the useful information from the rest. He had no real interest in being useful, or at least, that was not his primary concern right now. Basically, he decided, Artux had kidnapped a soldier who had later deserted to be with him. That was unexpected in the extreme, but it gave Wolfe something solid to hold onto when he felt hopeless about the state of his prospective life with Rune. 

“Do you think he’s happy?” he asked, no longer caring if Artux took it badly or not.

“Oh yes,” the warrior replied. “He gave me this right before I left to come raiding with Kolbu.” Artux pulled a leather strap around his neck until a small wooden charm appeared from beneath his shirt. It was roughly carved into a circle with a leaf etched into the middle. “He has made his own  _ kroffa _ and gifted it to me. I did not ask him to. Oh! A  _ kroffa _ is like a wedding ring,” he added, nodding sagely. “At least in this instance. It has other meanings too, but that is what this one means. Leaf was confused about them at first too, so don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense. You’ll soon get the hang of it.”

Artux nodded slowly again as though agreeing with himself. Wolfe smiled. There was still something a bit off about the warrior but he found himself oddly charmed by him. He was by no means simple, but his bluntness was clearly a vital part of a kind and genuine personality. He wondered how such a man had become a warrior. 

“It’s beautiful,” Wolfe said. “You’re right, I don’t really understand it. But I can tell it means a lot to you.”

Artux smiled and rubbed his thumb over the wooden token. 

“It does,” he agreed. “You should make one for Rune. He would like that, I think. I know he is eager to wed you.”

Wolfe considered it for a moment. He wasn’t the best at whittling but he wasn’t too bad either. If Rune would accept it, it seemed like a good idea to help mend the broken bridges between them. And, even if it didn’t, it was something to do while he sat up in the bedroom with his mother and sister. But he didn’t know if there was more to it than just whittling.

“So… they’re more than just symbols, right?” he asked. “How would I go about making one? Do I need a priest? Are they religious items?”

Artux pursed his lips and considered for a moment, then made a ‘sort of?’ gesture with his hand.

“In Murku some people get their  _ kroffa _ read by the gods,” he said. “But Leaf didn’t do that. He just chose one for his name. See?” He held up the token again. “It’s a leaf. Your name would be easy too. Wolfe. Like a wolf. A  _ kita,  _ or sometimes  _ fedr natz  _ — wild dog. We have those in Murku, too, but it is not so common as a  _ kroffa. _ I think it would suit you.”

Wolfe smiled. He could do that. The leaf on the wooden pendant was not overly detailed, nor was it too difficult to scratch the outline of a wolf with a whittling knife. 

“I think I will do that,” he decided. “Will you allow me the tools in the room so I can have it ready for when I see him?”

“I must accompany the other Elbiyans on a walk,” Artux said. “But if Ariete is guarding you I’m sure he will allow it. He’s my little brother. He must do as I say, as I am the elder.”

Artux grinned and chuckled as Wolfe smiled more broadly at that. It seemed some things were similar the world over. His own brothers told him the same thing when they wanted to annoy him.

“Thank you.” Wolfe rose from the bench and Artux followed suit. “I would prefer not to discuss sexual matters with you. I hope that’s alright.”

Artux nodded and smiled. Wolfe was relieved that he had read that correctly, at least. Artux was blunt but it seemed he was not a man who couldn’t accept bluntness in others. If anything, he seemed to appreciate it.

“That is fine. I will take you back to the room now. Your friends need to have as much time as they desire as well, that’s only fair.”

Wolfe let Artux lead him back to the lodge with a spring in his step. Even if Rune remained unreachable, he felt like he had made a friend, and one who could introduce him to an Elbiyan who’d had success adapting to the Murkuri lifestyle already to boot. He let a tenuous hope settle in his heart.


	18. Chapter 18

As Artux predicted, Ariete allowed Wolfe a small knife and some wood to whittle. He barely noticed Nannu chaining his leg again as he settled in to work. It had been some time since he’d carved anything, but he only needed to start over twice before he found his stride. 

“What are you making? I wish I had something to do.” Elowen took advantage of Cerise being out walking to slouch beside Wolfe on the bed and kick at the bedhead in a very unladylike manner. “Do you think Skriev will be back soon? I hope Bojar sends a reply, I miss him so terribly already.”

“I’m making a… a  _ kroffa _ ,” Wolfe told her. “And I have no idea. I don’t know if he was on horseback or on foot, or if Bojar will still be at the hall. Might be best to prepare yourself for a couple of days waiting.”

Elowen huffed and flopped back on the bed, but Nannu’s ears pricked up at Wolfe’s use of the Murkuri word. She came over and perched on the bed beside him to watch him work. Wolfe glanced sidelong at her and adjusted himself so that she could see.

“It is good,” she said after watching for a few minutes. “What will you do with it once it’s made?”

Wolfe hesitated, thinking for a moment that he’d made some sort of blunder. Then he remembered that Artux had said their  _ kroffa  _ could mean more than one thing.

“I suppose it will be for what most of them are,” he replied. “But mostly I want to give it to Rune. If he’ll accept it.”

Nannu raised her eyebrows and stared at him, then frowned. Wolfe tried a small smile. She didn’t look angry but he didn’t quite know what he was doing so her silence unnerved him. 

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Wolfe asked when the silence made him uncomfortable enough. Nannu snorted.

“Yes,” she said. “You know he will. Don’t involve me in your drama, I am just a simple warrior, I have no time for this.”

“Sorry.” Wolfe blinked, unsure. She still didn’t sound angry. If anything she sounded flippant, but he didn’t know quite how to respond. “I only meant, I’m not exactly sure what it will mean to him. Artux only said he liked the one his Leaf gave him. I just thought…”

Nannu raised her hands as though in surrender and got up from the bed, walking back over to where Ariete sat idling with another warrior. He chuckled when she muttered something to him in Murkuri and grinned at Wolfe. Wolfe flushed and turned back to his task.

“I wonder if Bojar will give me his kroffer,” Elowen mused. “It must be a love token. I bet he’s been waiting all his life to give it to someone, and now, I’m here, I’ll accept it.”

Wolfe breathed a laugh at his sister’s over-dramatic swoon as she spoke.

“I think it’s more than just that.” Wolfe spoke in an undertone, his eyes fixed on his carving. “Probably you could give him one, too. It seems like they all have them.”

“No,” Elowen sighed. “Ladies don’t get to do that sort of thing. They have to wait for the men to make overtures. It’s tedious, really.”

“Hmm.” Wolfe fell silent as he traced the outline of the wolf’s snout with his blade, taking care not to slip and ruin it. “I am a lady now, supposedly. Neither Artux nor Nannu mentioned anything about it being inappropriate. You could probably get away with it. Just don’t tell Mother.”

Elowen sat up and stared at him, a slow smile creeping across her face.

“Of course,” she said. “Brilliant!”

Wolfe glanced up at her and grinned, amused. She patted him affectionately on the shoulder and got up to ask for whittling tools of her own, then came back to sit by him while she waited.

“I won’t tell Mother about yours, either,” she promised. “She’s so determined to make us look like perfect Elbiyans, I don’t think she’s realised it doesn’t mean anything to them.”

“She means well,” Wolfe replied. “But you’re right. I had hoped she might help me adjust to being a woman, but I’m not sure it will be much use given the circumstances. I don’t think Rune knows what Elbiyan ladies are supposed to be like anyway. He might just be confused.”

“Bojar loves that I’m Elbiyan,” Eolwen confided. “He said I’m the perfect mix of Murkuri spirit and Elbiyan beauty. Isn’t he romantic?”

“He does sound nice,” Wolfe agreed. “I doubt Mother and Father will let you be together though.”

“Mmm.” A crafty look passed over Elowen’s elf-like face. “Well, who knows. Everything is chaos right now. Anything feels possible, you know?”

Wolfe smiled again and focused on his task. His sister had a point, but where she seemed elated by the uncertain outcomes, Wolfe felt something closer to trepidation. The little wolf pendant in his hand felt like a lifeline in seas far stormier than he had any idea how to navigate. 

Looking at Elowen, he wished with all his heart that he could feel the same excitement she felt at her new beau. He had, briefly… and then he’d ruined it. He could still feel the sting of Rune’s disappointment after he’d turned him away in bed. If he was honest with himself, he should have just spoken frankly to the giant when he had the chance, no matter how messy or confusing it was. He felt now like Rune would understand, or at least that he would accept it if he didn’t and try to be compassionate. He had been nothing  _ but _ compassionate since even before he’d claimed Wolfe as his bride. 

“I’m sure you and Rune will find your feet, too,” Elowen said softly. “He does seem like a good man. You just need to get to know each other, that’s all.”

“Thank you.” Wolfe smiled. “Does it not bother you that I will wed a man? Mother has been good about it but I can tell she’d prefer I had a lady for a bride.”

Elowen pursed her lips and considered. She tucked her long dark hair behind her ear and let her shrewd blue eyes settle on him.

“A little bit, I suppose,” she admitted. “But… well. I mean, you’ve always been… a bit like that, haven’t you? Petar told me you used to like wearing Mother’s jewels when you were small. And then there was the incident with the soldiers in the yard.”

“Incident?!” Wolfe sputtered. “Wha— I don’t know what you mean. There was no incident.”

“Wolfe.” Elowen gave him a pitying look. “They moved the tutoring room to the other side of the hall. You were staring at them, and then you… well....”

“I was just watching them train!” Wolfe argued. “I hadn’t decided yet if I would be a soldier or not, I was interested in the drills!”

“Alright.” Elowen held up her hands to pacify him. “Maybe the tutor misunderstood. But, anyway, all I meant was, if any of my brothers could make the best of a situation like this, it would be you. You’re… adaptable. That’s all.”

“Thank you.” Wolfe narrowed his eyes at her, disconcerted at the turn of their conversation. “I appreciate your faith in me.”

Elowen nodded and smiled, then her eyes lit up as Nannu returned and passed her some wood and tools. She sat by the end of the bed and became engrossed in her task. Wolfe pursed his lips, his mind ticking over on what she’d said, and turned back to his own carving. If nothing else, he had to agree that he could probably do better at surviving Rune than either Tomas or Petar.

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Cerise returned ruffled from her walk with Artux, and Wolfe could tell she was just as disconcerted as he had been by the warrior’s mannerisms. He wondered what they had talked about. Whatever it was, it left her contemplative and she left him and Elowen alone to whittle as she thought it over.

When the Murkuri came to collect them for lunch Wolfe found himself nervous. He had finished the  _ kroffa _ but now he was second-guessing it. He had no real understanding of what it meant to the Murkuri and it seemed like it was more special than just a love token, no matter what Elowen thought. But the more he ruminated on it, the less he knew what to do. He attached a leather cord to it and slipped it onto his girdle for safekeeping before following the warriors out into the common areas.

Before they reached the dining hall, though, Wolfe caught sight of a silhouette through the window and felt his breath catch in his throat. It was Bethilde. She was talking to someone out of sight but Wolfe felt his heart race at the realisation that if she was there then Rune might be as well. She caught his eye through the glass and he thought she gestured at him with a nod. He averted his gaze and tried to hurry along into the hall. Confronted with the possibility of seeing Rune again, he was suddenly dizzy, his stomach in knots. He didn’t even look up when a broad shadow fell over him as he walked.

“Wolfe.”

He stopped, tears pricking at his eyes at the giant’s familiar baritone. Cerise and Elowen stopped as well, but Nannu and Adunn herded them on, leaving Wolfe alone in the hallway with his future husband. He tried to breathe and steady himself. Surely the worst Rune could do was shout at him. He needed to be alive and intact for the wedding, he had to believe he would be safe at least until then.

“You’re back,” he said, hating how his voice trembled. He still couldn’t bring himself to look up at the giant.

“I am,” Rune replied. “Will you look at me?”

Wolfe pressed his lips together to keep from crying and dragged his gaze up to Rune’s face. He looked tired but otherwise as normal. 

“How did you sleep last night?” Rune asked. “I hope the warriors didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It was fine,” Wolfe replied. “Nothing serious, we were just a little snug all together in the bedroom.”

“All of the warriors slept with you?”

“Oh! No, just… just my mother and sister and the servants,” Wolfe clarified. “We brought in mattresses and I slept next to Elowen. It was fine. I slept alright. And… how did you sleep?”

Rune shrugged. The bags under his eyes were quite deep.

“We slept in the forest,” Rune said. “And had quite a lot to drink. I’m a little tired.”

Wolfe nodded, unsure how to respond. Rune held his gaze, then swept it down to take in his gown. He was still wearing the velvet, his face painted once more and his veil cascading over his shoulders. He barely noticed it until now, but he found himself squirming under Rune’s examination. The giant’s eyes narrowed as they settled on Wolfe’s waist.

“What is  _ that _ ?” he demanded. 

Wolfe flushed, remembering the  _ kroffa _ and regretting having attached it in plain view. He hadn’t expected to see Rune so soon. 

“It’s… uhh… I-I carved it today,” he said. “I… thought… uhhh.” He couldn’t look away as Rune studied his face, a variety of emotions warring in his eyes. “I need to talk to you about it. It’s… I just need to talk to you. If that’s okay.”

Rune frowned and nodded. He led Wolfe to the dining hall and collected plates for them, then took him through to the sitting room. A couple of other Murkuri were eating there, the hall not quite big enough for the large number of guests, but they paid them no mind. The sitting room wasn’t really designed for eating in but Rune found a divan big enough for them both and handed Wolfe his plate. Wolfe tucked his legs under himself and tried to figure out where to begin. He hadn’t thought to strategise ahead of time, and he wished he could have written out notes to read from. Rune began to eat but he kept his eyes on Wolfe. The unspoken expectation was clear. Wolfe forced his nerves away and decided to just go for it, hoping he would be able to explain on his instincts alone.

“I have treated you poorly,” he began. “And I’m sorry for it. Truly.”

Rune’s face dropped, almost imperceptibly, but then he shrugged.

“It’s to be expected,” he replied. “I am taking your freedom and your masculinity. And I will take more, soon enough.”

Wolfe’s heart pounded, but he ploughed on.

“No, it’s… it’s not just that,” he insisted. “Part of it is that, yes, but part of it…” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Part of it is that I don’t quite know how I feel about you. I know I should hate you. I should feel disgusted by your attention, and ashamed of wearing dresses and face tints and veils, but… I don’t. It’s… I don’t know. It’s strange. I wanted to wait and figure out how I really felt before I spoke with you about it, but I don’t want to hurt you. And I think that I have hurt you with my… uhh… confusion.”

Rune had stopped chewing his food as he listened, suspicion etched into his face, but he swallowed it now. Wolfe’s heart soared at the tenuous hope he saw in Rune’s deep, dark eyes.

“So… you do feel as I do, then?” he asked. “You enjoy the feel of my body against yours?”

Wolfe flushed at the memories those words evoked and bit his lip, looking up at Rune through shy lashes.

“I… I think I do.” He  _ knew _ he did, but he wasn’t quite brave enough to admit it out loud. “When you… touch me... It’s, uhh… well, I don’t mind it at all.”

“Don’t mind it?”

Wolfe choked back a frustrated sob. 

“Rune,” he begged. “Please. This is difficult for me.”

Rune surveyed him a moment, then nodded.

“I understand,” he replied. “I’m just trying to figure out, if you don’t mind me touching you, why you were content to stand by and watch your father’s assassin kill me.”


	19. Chapter 19

Wolfe’s insides froze at Rune’s words. He had been far from content to watch the giant die.

“I wasn’t,” he insisted. “Why would you say something like that?”

Rune cocked his head and watched him closely.

“I heard your mother when she reached you,” he said. “I would’ve heard if you’d tried to call out for my comrades. But you didn’t. I figured you probably were hoping the assassin would succeed, though I’m not sure what you were hoping for after that. Someone else would just claim you, you would still be forced to wed. But maybe you dislike me that much that you don’t care.”

Tears gathered in Wolfe’s eyes and he shook his head ‘no’. He hadn’t called for help, but he’d been about to… but Rune would have no reason to believe that. And, from what he could tell, he had exhausted the giant’s trust in him, however little or much there had been. 

“I was just scared,” he said. “I didn’t want you to die. I didn’t want either of you to die. I just… froze.”

It was the truth, more or less. Wolfe wasn’t about to give him a blow-by-blow of the mess of panicked thought’s he’d had as Rune squared off against Leon.

“Mm.” 

Rune scooped up more of his food and ate it, and Wolfe realised he hadn’t touched his own. He made a half-hearted attempt to start on it as Rune chewed, but he barely tasted it. 

“I talked a lot to Tryg and Bethilde last night,” Rune said after a minute. “They made a lot of interesting points. That’s three times I’ve saved you now. Four, if you count me claiming you as well. But it wasn’t enough for you to call for help. I was unarmed. That man was highly skilled. I would’ve died if not for Krig. I know you are unwilling but I had hoped at least that you wouldn’t want me dead. I have tried to be kind, and meet you where you are, or where I thought you were. I hoped that at least meant you would not hate me. It was a heavy blow to my heart.”

Wolfe couldn’t help the hopeless tears that gathered and began to fall from his eyes as it dawned on him what Rune was saying. 

He was giving up on him. 

The worst part was, Wolfe knew he had every right to see things as he did. They were not lovers who had met and courted, they were captor and captive. Rune had tried to offer him more and he’d rejected it more than once. Given the circumstances, he’d gone above and beyond what was required of him and still Wolfe had treated him with distrust and indecision. And Wolfe knew he had every right to reject him, too. They were still technically enemies. But the longer he spent with Rune, the less clear cut the situation felt. He knew how he should behave, according to every law and custom of his people. But he also knew how overwhelmed he was, and how hard it felt to overcome his lifetime’s worth of expectations in favour of following what his heart and body wanted. 

Rune was unaware of any of that though. All he would see was a reluctant bride who’d sat idle instead of saving his life. 

“Will you give me another chance?” Wolfe could barely speak through his tears. “I know this situation is not what either of us created alone. I… I would like to try again. If you are willing. I think we can make it work.”

“And when did you decide this?” Rune asked. He sounded halfway between disinterested and hurt. “Was it when you remembered that, although you are safe, that same protection does not necessarily extend to the rest of your family? That it is my decision how to treat them, and that the others follow only my lead?”

Wolfe had no answer for that. Technically that  _ was _ when he had decided it, but he didn’t agree with the implications of how Rune said it. More tears rolled down his cheeks as he realised there was nothing he could do in this moment to change Rune’s mind. He pulled his knees up to his chest and sobbed. The  _ kroffa  _ slipped from his lap and brushed his wrist as he moved, and he clutched at it, his final lifeline.

“I made you this,” he tried. “I chose the design and carved it myself.”

He pulled it from his girdle and held it out, his hand trembling. Rune looked at it in silence for a moment.

“You don’t even know what that is,” he said gently. 

Wolfe’s heart ached at the tired patience in Rune’s tone. He shoved the  _ kroffa _ at him, verging on desperation.

“Please take it,” he begged. “I made it for you. I don’t know what it is to your people, but I know what it is to me. It’s… a symbol. Of what I want for us. Please.”

Rune stared at him for a moment and Wolfe’s eyes were too blurry with tears to decipher his expression. He let out a gasp of relief when Rune took the  _ kroffa _ from him. Rune didn’t put it around his neck, as Wolfe had hoped he would, instead slipping it into a pocket on his belt. But it was something. He tried to smile but he could feel his lips trembling as he did so. Rune frowned, then sighed.

“Your face tint is running,” he said. “Here.”

He handed him a kerchief from his belt, and Wolfe tried to dab under his eyes without smearing it further, then cast a tearful, questioning glance at Rune to see if it was any better. The giant moved his plate then took the cloth and tilted Wolfe’s chin with one thick finger. Wolfe shuddered in delight at the contact, allowing Rune to wipe around his eyes until he was satisfied. 

“I must return to Tithdale to inform Kolbu of the would-be assassin,” Rune said. “And I have already volunteered to hunt when I return. But I can see you have more to say, so I will ensure I find some time to talk with you again on my return.”

Wolfe’s chest tightened at the news that Rune would be leaving again, but, all in all, it was a better outcome than he could have gotten. Mention of Kolbu reminded Wolfe of the other outstanding issue though. He hated to sully the moment, but he knew he couldn’t leave it to chance. 

“I am sorry for not calling for help,” he said. “I may not know exactly what I think or feel about you, but I do know that I don’t want you dead. You’ve been so… so kind. But I need you to know, my mother would never collaborate on a plot to kill any of her children. She’s… she just wouldn’t. She couldn’t. I never noticed it until recently but I think we are the only thing she’s glad of in her union with my father. She would never let harm come to any of us.”

Rune pursed his lips, but then he sighed and nodded.

“I know that,” he agreed. “I was blinded by my rage yesterday, but, on reflection, she does not seem the type. I suspect you are correct that she would be no ally of your father’s in such a plot. But you need not worry. I have already withdrawn my accusation towards her to those who witnessed it. I hope I didn’t frighten her too badly.”

Wolfe thought back on how his mother had trembled and stayed in bed after Rune had stormed out. She did seem better today though, so he decided against mentioning it.

“I’m sure she will be alright,” he said. The giant nodded.

“You will be alright too, Wolfe,” Rune assured him. “I will keep my promises. I will not fuck you unrtil the wedding. I will be gentle. I will look after you. It is not how I would have wanted it, but I will get over my disappointment, in time.”

Wolfe still felt wobbly and fragile inside. Rune was being so reasonable but he could still feel a gap between them that he was sure had not been there before. He searched the giant’s face, but all he could say for sure was that Rune was tired. He bent his head over his food and tried to focus on the positives as he ate. With any luck, the next time he saw Rune they would have some privacy, and then… well, he would figure that out later. For now, he was just glad there was a semblance of peace between them.

When Rune took him back to the room, the other Elbiyans were already there. Cerise breathed an audible sigh of relief as she took in Wolfe’s largely unsullied appearance. She and Elowen let him sit and breathe for a few minutes before he recounted what had happened, and then they were silent a few minutes more before they spoke.

“This is good,” Cerise told him. “It’s perfect for you now, dear. If you can endure intimacy with him, it sounds like he will not expect anything else from you.”

“It is,” Wolfe agreed, even as his heart ached at not getting to spend time nestled in the giant’s arms. “I must be careful not to upset him again.”

“Why was he so upset to begin with?” Elowen asked. “I mean, of course he wouldn’t want to die, but why did he think you would call for help for him? You’re his prisoner, not his friend.”

Wolfe tried not to look too guilty as Elowen’s question hung in the air between them. Cerise waved her hand at Elowen, ignoring Wolfe’s flushed face.

“Who knows where barbarians get their ideas from,” she scoffed. “All that matters is that your brother will be safe once he is wed. You must avoid him now, Wolfe. Do not give him the opportunity to find more fault with you. We must think of an excuse to cancel your meeting when he returns from his hunt.”

Wolfe blanched at spending even more time away from Rune, especially now that they had reconciled, at least partially.

“No, it’s fine,” he tried. “I can handle it.”

“But what if you anger him again? Wolfe, he is kind, but no warrior is safe in a state like that.”

Wolfe tried to think of something to say to change her mind, but Elowen got in first.

“He can’t just avoid him forever,” she said. “At some point, he will take Wolfe away and it will be just the two of them. Better to learn how to handle him now than later.”

Cerise frowned, but she had nothing to argue against that. Wolfe was struck again by insight into what his mother’s life had been, right under his nose, for her to view marriage the way she did. The constant fear of his father. The incredible amount of work and strength it had taken to endure him, given that she had no way to flee. Wolfe’s heart broke for her. He was determined to make something better of his union of Rune. If he could get Rune to trust him again, he might even agree to bringing Cerise with them after the wedding. Kidnapping her would be more like saving her from being left to suffer further under Lord Almary’s marital tyranny. He thought Rune might be the type to enjoy that too.

The rest of the day passed quietly. Artux was happy to accompany them on short walks whenever they got restless, and Nannu agreed to bring some books from the library for them to read. 

By dinner Wolfe was feeling calm but tired. He followed the Murkuri towards the hall feeling better than he had in days. Even the thick scent he’d come to associate with more spice than he enjoyed didn’t bother him. He sat down and barely paid attention to what was going on around him until he was almost finished eating.

“What is that awful din?” Cerise muttered. 

Wolfe lifted his head, becoming aware of shouts and crashes from towards the entrance. A shiver of unease ran through him until he realised the voices were high-spirited rather than aggressive. He shifted in his seat to watch the doors just in time to see half a dozen warriors burst through them, bandanas wrapped around their faces. Cerise shrieked and almost toppled off her chair at the explosion of rowdy noise and movement. Around them, none of the Murkuri reacted beyond chuckles and shouts of encouragement. Wolfe couldn’t even begin to understand what was happening.

Elowen, on the other hand, leapt into action. She jumped from her chair with a delighted squeal and rushed forwards. Cerise gave a horrified gasp and rushed after her.

“Wolfe!” she hissed. “Get up! Help me!”

Still confused, Wolfe got to his feet, but then he caught sight of Skriev coming in behind the warriors and it clicked. He hung back to watch his mother try to get a hold on his sister as the younger lady danced around out of her grasp. The masked warriors whooped and joined in, darting between them and calling out in jubilant tones. Then one of them caught Elowen by the waist and lifted her. She screamed in delight and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his.

“Elowen Almary, you come back here right now!” Cerise bellowed, trying and failing to get around the dancing, screaming youths. Wolfe had never heard his mother so enraged. 

“I can’t, Mother, I’m captured!” Elowen called back as the warrior started carrying her away. “We shall just have to hope they treat me kindly!”

Wolfe couldn’t suppress a disbelieving chuckle as his sister pressed the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic faint. With her other, she wiggled her fingers over the warrior’s shoulder in a saucy goodbye, not even waiting until they were out of sight to leap down from his arms and take him by the hand as they fled. 

Cerise stood shaking and breathing hard in the silence left in their wake. Wolfe could hear the group still laughing and screaming faintly from outside. Given that his sister was now ‘captured’, Wolfe didn’t know what to do. It felt insensitive to just sit down and go back to his food but he was too tired to think of anything else. The result was that he stood quietly and looked at his seat while his mother fumed. Around them, most of the Murkuri had already gone back to what they were doing. By the time Cerise had calmed down enough to turn back to him, Wolfe was ready to go to bed. His food was cold and the previous few days had left him exhausted beyond measure.

“Say nothing of this to your father,” Cerise snapped as she took her seat again. “Nor anyone who might take it back to him. Honestly, Wolfe, you could have helped.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Wolfe said. “I don’t think it would have done any good.”

Cerise huffed and shifted her food around in her bowl for a few minutes, which Wolfe took to mean she begrudgingly agreed with him. He sat in silence until Artux and Adunn took them all back to the room. His mother was so cross and distracted over Elowen that she didn’t think to reorganise their sleeping arrangements to account for one less person, so Wolfe took one mattress to himself. He tried not to miss Rune’s warmth as he burrowed down into the covers and drifted off to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Cerise was still in a foul mood the next day, so Wolfe occupied himself reading and carving. At one point Artux invited him to play dice with him and Nannu. They quickly discovered that the game relied on knowledge of the Murkuri language and cultural norms that Wolfe was completely clueless to, so instead of playing he just sat and watched while he whittled. They were friendly enough, opting to speak in Elbiyan most of the time even when not speaking directly to him and then chatting with him in between games. It was lovely to feel so included. The only thing missing was Rune, but Wolfe tried not to focus on that. The giant hadn’t given any indication how long he might be gone so Wolfe tried to prepare himself for a long wait. The hours stretched, but having the Murkuri for company and things to occupy himself helped.

He slept alone again that night and woke to another day of his mother fuming over Elowen and his entertainment beginning to wear thin. By the time they were finishing their meal he was ready to stay in bed all day the next day, too bored and frustrated to feign interest in either whittling or the books. He lay down to sleep with a pit in his stomach, tossing and turning for what felt like hours. 

Sometime as he struggled to drift he heard the door open. Nannu and Krig were on duty guarding them, both sitting quietly on the chairs, and they twitched to alert as someone entered. Wolfe's breathe caught in his throat as he recognised Rune’s outline. He wanted to leap up and embrace him, but memory of their ambiguous conversation made him wary, so he waited in silence. Rune spoke in an undertone in Murkuri to the warriors. They answered in kind, and then Nannu pointed to the mattress where Wolfe lay. Rune turned to look at him and Wolfe shifted, hoping Rune would see that he was awake.

The giant crouched by the mattress and rested his hand on the side. 

“Wolfe,” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

Wolfe tried not to feel too delighted as he pushed the blankets back and sat up, his smile shy but hopeful.

“I am,” he replied. “Are you back from your hunt?”

“I am.” Rune shifted on his heels, his face cloaked in shadow. “I wanted to ensure you have everything you need.”

Wolfe nodded. It seemed an odd thing for Rune to check on him for. He wondered if that was the only reason, trying not to be too hopeful that Rune just wanted to see him. He had no idea what the giant might be thinking. More that he wanted to say bubbled in his mind more but he was too nervous to speak while his mother slept only metres from him. She would definitely disapprove of what he had in mind.

“I don’t want to wake my mother,” he whispered. “Could we… is it too late to talk somewhere more private?”

Rune didn’t reply at first, and Wolfe’s stomach started churning. He regretted asking. He was so anxious to make things right, he hadn’t bothered to consider how tired Rune must be after travelling and hunting. Of course he wouldn’t want to deal with Wolfe right now. He tried to think of a way to change his mind that couldn’t be taken wrong, torn between craving Rune’s presence and desperate to make things right even if it meant waiting to talk to him. 

But then the giant nodded and Wolfe tried not to get too excited. He climbed out of bed once he was unchained and followed Rune out into the corridor, shivering at being just in his chemise after the warmth of the blankets. He gathered his courage. If he wanted to get anywhere, he had to just jump in, no second thoughts.

“I’d like to sleep beside you tonight,” he said. “If that’s okay.”

Rune blinked in surprise, but Wolfe held his gaze. Being coy had got him into this mess in the first place. If he wanted to fix things, he knew he needed to be open and honest from now on, no matter how uncomfortable it felt. All of the Murkuri spoke like that to each other. Blunt. Direct. Unashamed. So very different from Elbiyans. He knew he came across as quiet and cold most of the time but he also knew his own tenacity. If getting what he wanted meant pushing himself out of his comfort zone then he was more than willing to try.

“Just sleep?” Rune asked. “I don’t want any more misunderstandings.”

“Sleep, and… and if you would hold me— only if you want to, of course… and… umm…”

“Let’s leave it at sleep and an embrace for now,” Rune interrupted, and Wolfe was glad of his gentle tone. “I was going to sleep out in the hall with the others. They wouldn’t care, but I suspect you would prefer not to engage in more than that with others present, no?”

Wolfe gulped and nodded. Images of the entire hall watching Rune fuck him flooded his mind, followed by the same old thoughts of being shared around that had haunted him since his capture. He pushed them aside and smiled, determined. 

“Very well then,” Rune said. “Let’s go to bed.”

The hall Rune was referring to was not the dining hall, but the second foyer set to the rear of the lodge that opened up on the lake. The tall wooden ceilings were sheathed in darkness thanks to the new moon in the sky outside. There were little fold-up camp beds and bedrolls strewn all across the floor. A couple were empty but most were occupied by warriors, their breathing a faint, rippling chorus as they slept. Wolfe assumed the bedrolls must be their camping gear. 

He was grateful for the set-up he saw when Rune brought them to a halt. It was obviously meant for a man Rune’s size with room to spare, and he thought he would fit quite snugly in it beside him. The giant pulled another fur from a pack by the bedroll and laid it down for him. He sat quietly on it as Rune stripped off his armour, unreasonably disappointed when Rune kept his trousers on. If nothing else, it was brisk in the hall, so sleeping completely nude wasn’t practical. 

Deep calm settled over him as Rune got under his blanket and pulled Wolfe into his chest. Wolfe wrapped his arms around him and cuddled in, taking subtle draws of the giant’s thick, earthy scent. 

He heard Rune breathe a laugh through his nose and flushed red at being caught. Clearly he wasn't subtle enough.

“Do you like my scent as well?” Wolfe whispered, both to cover his embarrassment and make it clear he wasn’t rejecting the giant’s smell.

“I do,” Rune answered. “It’s very alluring.”

Inordinately pleased at that, Wolfe nestled his nose against Rune’s chest and enjoyed the rush of bliss at having the warrior’s skin against his own once more. He lay quietly in Rune’s arms as he listened to the other Murkuri around them shift in their sleep. It felt like he had so much to say, but, in the peaceful gloom of the hall, finally holding him in his arms, Wolfe couldn’t put his finger on any of it. 

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of nothing, only the pervading pleasure of Rune’s scent in his nostrils and his warmth against his body.

Wolfe was woken earlier than he would have liked by the sound of a shrill scream. He jolted upright, panting. That was his mother...! All of the beds around him were already empty. She must be in danger, he had to go help—

“She has likely just discovered your absence.”

By his side, Rune was still prone on the furs, but his eyes were open and he looked ready to get up if Wolfe didn’t lay back down. Wolfe pursed his lips and nodded. After Elowen’s grand exit, he hadn’t thought of how waking to an empty bed would feel for his mother. He knew she would know he was alright soon enough, but it still tugged at his heartstrings to think of her in distress. 

“Do you want to go see her now?” Rune stretched, obviously rousing himself to rise.

“Not really,” Wolfe told him. “But I probably should. She must be worried sick. Elowen already ran off with some warrior the other day.”

“Ah, yes, Skriev told me about that.” Rune chuckled, then he rolled and called out to a warrior passing by the open door. The warrior nodded and ran off.

“What did you say to him?” Wolfe asked. 

“He is bringing your mother here to see you,” Rune said. 

Wolfe gasped, panic flooding his mind at the realisation that his mother would see him and Rune in their indelicate state. Thankfully he was still in his chemise, but Rune looked naked under the blanket. Rune watched him with suspicion.

“Are you changing your mind again, Elbiya?” he asked. “You asked to sleep beside me last night, remember.”

Most of the Murkuri called him Elbiya, but for some reason hearing it from Rune’s lips stung. He stopped himself in his tracks. He _was_ changing his mind, again, as Rune thought. But he didn’t want to do that. Pushing his panic to one side, he lay down again beside the giant and cuddled into him.

“No,” he decided firmly. “I want to be here. With you.”

Rune made a hum of approval and held him close. Wolfe tried to be unbothered, like Elowen had been as she fluttered her fingers over her warrior’s shoulder. She seemed to revel in the scandal she was causing. Wolfe, on the other hand, couldn’t stop his heart from hammering as he waited for his mother’s arrival. Rune rubbed his fingers in a slow line from Wolfe’s shoulder up his neck.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured. “What are you so worried about? She’s got to know what married couples do. If anything she should be glad we both enjoy it, given the circumstances.”

“As if she knows the circumstances,” Wolfe snapped back, then stopped himself before he could do more damage. Rune frowned and shifted him so that he could lean on one elbow and look at him properly.

“This is the problem, isn’t it?” Rune asked. “You want me but you don’t want anyone to know. Why don’t you want people to know?”

Wolfe squirmed under his gaze. There were lots of reasons, but his mother might walk in at any moment and from their positions it could look like Rune was climbing off him— or onto him.

“I don’t mind if your friends know,” he said. “It’s just too complicated when it comes to my family. And… you know… society. It’s… I’m supposed to be… better.”

“Better?” Rune narrowed his eyes. “Better than what?”

“Not… I don’t mean it like that, I more mean—”

“Wolfe!”

Wolfe jumped at his mother’s scandalised scream from the doorway. If not for Rune’s bulk, he would’ve leapt to his feet. The giant kept him in place with one huge hand on his stomach and frowned down at him, then turned his head to speak over his shoulder to Cerise. Adunn and Artux held her back.

“We are not ready to get up yet,” he told her. “I just wanted you to see that he is safe.”

Cerise began to sputter out a protest, but the warriors led her away, leaving Rune and Wolfe to their lie-in. Rune still had his hand on Wolfe’s stomach. Even though his mother had left, Wolfe still found himself panicking.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he insisted. “Rune, I swear, I didn’t.”

“Then what did you mean?” Rune's voice had taken on the wary tone Wolfe now recognised as a precursor to him hurting the giant’s feelings. He took a steadying breath and placed his hand over Rune’s on his stomach, interlacing their fingers.

“I didn’t mean that you’re not good enough for me,” he said. “But in Elbiya, what we’re doing— what we’re going to do, it’s… wrong. Sinful. All of Elbiya would be under moral obligation to punish me if they knew. It’s one thing to be raped by an enemy. I should avoid it, but it is not considered my fault, or at least not in the same way. But to lie with you by choice… to enjoy it… that’s… weakness. It shows that I am sinful in my soul and not just my deeds.”

As Wolfe spoke, Rune’s face softened by degrees. By the time he was done the giant looked sad, almost. Wolfe hurried to clasp his fingers tighter to reassure him.

“Oh, Wolfe…” Rune’s tone was softer and sweeter than Wolfe had ever heard him. “You… you believe that it goes against the gods to feel as you do? That’s… no. Wolfe, it's not wrong. You’re not wrong. It is natural to desire the company of men, or women. Or both. Or neither. Many among the Murkuri lay with companions of the same sex. Some choose a single partner, some lay with many people, sometimes all at once. Some stay virgins their whole life. No choice is better or worse than any other, I promise.”

Wolfe barely had time to process that tears were filling his eyes and flooding down his face before he was sobbing. He curled in on himself and pressed his face into the fur, startled at the sudden release. Rune lay down beside him and pulled him in to cry on his chest. Wolfe clung to him as his sides heaved and he cried out what felt like more tears than his body could hold in a lifetime. He didn’t even know why he was crying.

Rune kept him close as he worked through the confusing flood of emotion twisting in his chest. Every time he thought he was done, another wave hit, leaving him gasping and weak by the time he finally finished. He stared up at Rune with dull, exhausted eyes, his lips trembling. Rune sighed and pressed a kiss into his cheek. Wolfe felt a little awkward at how much he had cried, but Rune seemed content to lie in silence with him. Yet again he had been insensitive and seemed to reject Rune, but still the giant wasn’t pushing him away or being cruel to him. Wolfe didn’t know what to do with so much kindness. He hadn’t realised how callous those around him generally were until now when he compared it to the gentle compassion Rune exhibited most of the time.

“I’d like to ask you a question,” Wolfe said at length. “I know I’ve asked you before, but… I don’t know. I’d like to ask it again.”

Rune nodded, shifting so that they could face each other more easily. Wolfe rested his head on the giant’s bicep and reached out to lay his hand on his chest.

“What would you have our life together look like?” he asked. “If you could shape it from your mind with no heed to reality, how would it be?”

“With no heed to reality?” Rune frowned and thought for a moment. “I would want us to love each other. As husbands should. I would want you happy in our bed beneath me, content to sit in my arms over meals and glad to see me on my return from travels. I would want us to be as one. Together. To know that we are united against whatever may come.” He smiled, though his eyes were tinged with sadness. “Though I understand why it cannot be. Desire is not the only thing. You are my prisoner; I am your enemy. But if we could find our way to friendship at least, I could content myself with that.”

Wolfe’s eyes filled with tears again and he choked back a sob at Rune’s reply. The giant looked disappointed, hurt even, but Wolfe didn’t process that, or the reasons why it might be. He pushed his face into Rune’s neck and clung to him. Unlike earlier, he knew exactly why he was crying now.

“Th-that sounds s-so lovely,” he hiccupped. “I w-want it t-too, but… I… don’t kn-know… h-h-h...”

“You don't know how,” Rune finished. Wolfe nodded, tears streaming. “Then let us figure it out together, maybe?”

Wolfe sniffled, unsure but hopeful. Rune gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“We have time,” Rune reminded him. “We are to be wed. We will have all the time in the world.”


	21. Chapter 21

The sense of peace and comfort that washed over Wolfe at Rune’s words sent a rush through him that left him dizzy. He clung tighter to the giant, knowing there was no earthly way for someone his size to cling too tight, and revelled in the soft press of lips against his forehead in response. Something small and fragile in his heart lit with dim longing. He had no idea what to make of what Rune told him about the Murkuri customs, but he knew the giant wouldn’t lie to him. He was rapidly moving away from any state that Elbiya had dominion over. Once he was wed, and as the bride no less, technically by Elbiyan customs themselves he was his husband’s property for life. So… really he should conform to what Rune wanted, if he was to be a good wife... and every facet of Elbiyan culture dictated that a wife should be good…

“Should I have someone bring us breakfast?” 

Rune’s question interrupted Wolfe’s pondering. Probably for the best, he decided. They weren’t wed yet. Best not to get too ahead of himself lest it all go up in smoke at the last minute. As Rune had said, they would have all the time in the world soon enough. They just had to reach the altar first. He burrowed into Rune’s neck.

“Would they mind?” he asked. “I… don’t really want to face my mother just yet. She took two days to calm after Elowen left.”

“They won’t mind.” Rune adjusted Wolfe in his arms and sighed. “As I told you, usually a Murkuri couple would spend the weeks leading up to a wedding secluded in their  _ volan’uk _ . It is the job of kin to ensure they are fed. In truth I think that’s what some of them think this is, out here in the lodge.”

Feeling as he did now, Wolfe could see how such a custom had come about. If he ignored the petulant voice in his head screaming about impropriety then he could easily spend the rest of his life in Rune’s embrace. 

The giant waited until another warrior passed and called out the request, then curled back around Wolfe.

“I’m guessing you’re still set on remaining a virgin until the wedding?” Rune asked.

Wolfe considered, torn again between his own desires and the burden of social responsibility he still felt weighing on his shoulders. If he was honest, there was no easy way to express what he truly wanted, especially to someone he had only met a few days ago. He pulled back so Rune could see his face as he replied.

“I would prefer to,” he said. “But, it occurred to me the other morning in bed that, if you really wanted to, there wouldn’t be much I could do to stop you.”

“I wouldn’t force it on you,” Rune told him without hesitation. “Not until I have to, at least, and even then I will do all I can to be gentle.”

“Gentle is good,” Wolfe said, choosing his words carefully. “But, you know. I survived it the other night. When you… ah…”

A tenuous thread of understanding seemed to dawn in Rune’s eyes. 

“It is hard to keep my hands off you?” he tried. “Even knowing I should leave you be until we’re wed?”

“But, you are a warrior,” Wolfe continued, his heart hopeful as Rune seemed to understand his meaning. “And warriors have… needs…”

Something flickered in Wolfe’s memory at that. Rune was watching him carefully, running his hand up his leg, catching the chemise and dragging it with him. Wolfe took a shaky breath.

“Not until we’re wed,” he whispered, his heart racing in excitement.

“But I have needs.” Rune’s eyes glittered with dark lust reminiscent of the first day of the Murkuri victory. “And I must sate them.”

Wolfe gasped and pushed uselessly against the warrior’s powerful chest, enjoying how Rune held him tighter and shoved the chemise up with rougher movements. Wolfe’s cock stirred to life and he struggled in Rune’s arms as the warrior rolled to pin him, pushing his legs apart. The giant settled between his thighs and gripped Wolfe’s wrists, immobilising him.

“Don’t fight and I’ll even—”

“I hope we’re not interrupting.”

Wolfe shrieked at the sudden third voice in the room, making Rune wince. The warrior grumbled and sat up. Wolfe trembled on the furs, his legs still spread, his chemise bunched around his upper thighs. They’d been so caught up they hadn’t heard Tryg and Adunn return with the requested breakfast. Rune was already reaching for the plates and thanking his friends as Wolfe closed his legs and took a few deep breaths. Oh yes, he thought. That could definitely work.

“Sit up and eat, bride,” Rune told him. “We’ve a long day of nothing ahead of us.”

Tryg chuckled and shot Wolfe a look, then offered him his plate. Wolfe sat up slowly and accepted it, somehow remembering to thank him. The meal was cold meats, hard cheese, savoury jam and bread, with apple juice to wash it down. Wolfe was glad when he saw they’d brought a platter as well as the two plates. That might mean he didn’t have to see his mother until dinner, at least. Perhaps even longer if the warriors truly didn’t mind bringing them food. He tucked in as Rune talked for a few minutes with Tryg. His arousal receded but he could feel it waiting beneath his skin for the moment he was at Rune’s mercy again. The way it had felt when Rune clutched at his skirts, it was… magical.

Wolfe frowned. That didn’t feel like his word. It had come from his mind, but somehow it felt foreign. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d referred to something as magical. And yet, there it was, along with that strange flicker in his memory. He took a bite of food and puzzled over it. There was something there, on the edge of his mind. The rustle of pages under blankets… a secret, something he’d cherished as his own… a red-haired woman with flashing green eyes...

“By the gods,” he murmured.

“Hm?” Rune glanced at him, his mouth full of food as well.

“It’s nothing,” Wolfe replied. “Don’t worry.”

Rune eyed him a moment longer as though not sure whether he could be trusted but Wolfe was too caught up in his memory. It would mean nothing to Rune, but he explored the revelation in himself with excitement.

One time, when he was young, a nobleman had come to negotiate with his father and stayed a few days. Wolfe had been playing in that bedroom after the nobleman left when he’d found it.  _ The book. _ He vividly remembered its green leather cover, the title embossed in gold leaf across its front.  _ The Conquering of Abelisse. _ He’d taken it to his room, assuming it was a war story. Abelisse was one of Elbiya’s foreign territories. He enjoyed reading about the strategy behind military manoeuvres and he’d expected some long-winded general’s blow-by-blow account of troop formations and weather conditions. 

Oh, how wrong he’d been. 

He ended up spending half the night reading about the proud foreign lady who’d been seduced by a dashing Elbiyan knight... and what they got up to after the seduction. There’d been a lot of struggling, as he recalled. Abelisse would not give up her virtue without a fight. But the coy looks she’d cast at the knight, the way she flipped her hair and batted her lashes as he circled had made Wolfe feel giddy reading about it. And when the knight had finally taken her in his arms and cut her clothes away, she’d opened her legs for him with a smile.

He flushed deep red as he recalled the most telling detail of his nights with the book. On reflection, the story had very clearly been written for a man to view himself as the knight seducing the lady. 

But that wasn’t how Wolfe viewed it. 

Every time he touched himself to thoughts of the conquering, he had imagined himself in Abelisse’s place. Had imagined being stalked and subdued. Rough hands yanking his hair, stripping his clothes… the gentle yet unyielding advance of fingers and tongues into him, followed by more, leaving him breathless and sullied in his bed when he climaxed, praying the servants made no mention of his crusted sheets to his parents. 

He cast a surreptitious glance at Rune. The knight in the story had been fair where Rune was dark, but other than that he fit the character remarkably well, strong and gruff and kind and most definitely big enough to overcome him. Wolfe stared at his food with wide eyes as he chewed. Perhaps Elowen was right. Perhaps he had always been… like this. 

“Are you alright?”

Wolfe glanced up, startled, then nodded. Rune frowned at him.

“I won’t do it again if you don’t want it,” he said. “I have had my share of plunder. I do not want that for us if it disturbs you.”

“It’s not that,” Wolfe assured him. “I’m just… thinking.”

“Mm.” Rune set the last few bites of his sandwich on his plate. “I was thinking too. It would be wise to have a way of telling me if you are in genuine distress. A word, or a gesture. Something that will stop me instantly.”

“Hmm.” Wolfe grinned, his spirits restored now that he was fed, rested and wanted again. “I could call you Kolbu?”

Rune snorted, shaking his head.

“Do not call me Kolbu,” he said. “I will stop, but I may not be able to start again for several days.”

Wolfe laughed and shuffled closer to the giant, smiling as Rune put his arm around him.

“Not that then,” he agreed. “But I don’t mind not having one. I know you won’t actually hurt me, and, well… it would be better if I… suffered a little.”

Rune pursed his lips. Wolfe himself didn’t know what he meant by that, but he was glad when the giant didn’t push it. He finished his food in silence. Rune took his plate and stacked it with his and the platter when they were done, then stretched out on the furs once more, pulling Wolfe down with him. His hand found Wolfe’s arse without hesitation and he took it in a firm handful.

“I suppose I’ll just have to ignore your struggles,” the giant murmured against his cheek, making Wolfe shiver with both fear and anticipation.

“You brute,” Wolfe whispered. It was so much easier to accept the giant’s attention like this, he could cry. “I won’t let you have me.”

The grin that spread across Rune’s face would have been terrifying if not for how gentle Wolfe knew he was. Even so, the sight stirred his stomach with unease. Wolfe raised his hand to slap the giant, but Rune was quicker, grabbing his wrist and shoving it to the fur. Wolfe gasped and twisted. He knew Rune was strong but he hadn’t realised exactly  _ how _ strong until he tried to pull away and the giant didn’t even react. Rune leaned in to take his earlobe between his teeth and Wolfe sobbed.

“You cannot resist me, Elbiya,” he murmured. “I will have your virtue, no matter how hard you fight.”

“No, please,” Wolfe gasped.

Rune shifted without warning. Wolfe found his legs splayed around the giant’s midsection before he could blink. He kicked out and his knees found purchase but Rune’s bulk was immovable. It was like fighting a mountain. A wave of helplessness swept through him and settled in his cock as Rune bore down on him. 

Rune was terrifyingly good at subduing him. Every manoeuvre Wolfe made, the giant was ready, pinning him in place and taking his time to enjoy his body. He attempted to kiss Wolfe’s neck, thwarted when Wolfe twisted his head and tried to push him away. Next thing Wolfe knew, Rune’s fist was twisting in his hair and he was forced to bare his throat. Warm lips against his skin made him shiver and ache even as he cried out and struggled to free himself. With his other hand, Rune pulled at Wolfe’s skirts once more until he found his skin and ran his fingers over his thigh. With his legs spread as they were it was impossible to escape the contact. Rune pushed his hand up higher until he found Wolfe’s hip, then ground his crotch against Wolfe’s body. If not for how loud he screamed and how hard he kicked, Wolfe would have burned with shame at how his body sang for more. His cock was hard and ready before Rune had even pulled his skirts completely out of the way.

“Don’t touch me!” he shrieked. “Get off!”

Rune shook him by the hair, rough enough to feel it. Wolfe gasped and let helpless tears roll down his face as the giant’s bulk overwhelmed him. There was no fighting it. He swung at Rune’s face, landing a solid punch, and the giant barely reacted.

“I’m going to cover your cute little hole with cum,” Rune breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Wolfe sobbed and pushed uselessly against Rune’s chest as the warrior pulled his cock from his trousers and settled it against Wolfe’s. The difference between the two was a stark contrast, Rune’s longer than Wolfe’s by half and just shy of twice as thick. The frightened whimper Wolfe let out as Rune ground on him was only half for show. Gods, he would soon have that inside him… He renewed his struggles with vigour. Rune chuckled and gave his hair a tighter squeeze. He was reaching down and fumbling with his cock even as Wolfe winced and struggled.

As soon as Wolfe felt the head of Rune’s cock against his hole, he froze. He couldn’t help it. A part of him was curious now, after so long dreading it, but mostly he was petrified. Rune had said preparation was involved to avoid it hurting, but Wolfe didn’t feel ready at all. He stifled a frightened sob as Rune dragged his cock head back and forth. The giant’s grip on his hair and his body pinning him left Wolfe no room to move, so all he could do was brace himself.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” Rune growled. “The minute that priest is done, I’m bending you over.”

Wolfe let out a trembling gasp. Rune bent his head and kissed roughy up and down his neck as Wolfe came to terms with the fact that Rune still intended to wait. The mix of relief and disappointment mingled with his body’s arousal and drew tears to his eyes, his cock beginning to ache and throb. Rune’s cock rubbed and pressed against his hole, insistent but never firm enough to actually breach him. He kicked at Rune’s midsection, trying to dislodge him, sobbing at his helplessness and his cock’s frustration.

“Don’t touch me,” he sobbed. “Please, Rune, p-please—”

“You sound so sweet when you’re begging.” Rune pulled away from his neck to stare down at him and grin. Wolfe hiccupped and pushed against his chest, making the giant chuckle. “I know what you need.”

Rune released his hair and Wolfe tried to sit up instinctively, but the giant was quicker. He shifted back on his elbows until he was level with Wolfe’s belly button and caught him by the hips. Wolfe kicked as the giant lifted him by the waist. His biceps locked Wolfe’s thighs in place around his neck and he shoved his chemise out of the way. The long, dainty cloth covered Wolfe’s face and left his entire lower half exposed.

“What are you doing?” he shrieked. “Put me down!”

Rune’s breath ghosted over his hips and cock and made him shiver. Wolfe was glad his face was covered, hiding the small, excited gleam in his eyes as Rune got comfortable.

Sudden, wet heat around the head of his cock made Wolfe scream. It felt like Rune was swallowing him whole. Intense pleasure coursed through him in overwhelming waves as Rune sucked and teased his cock with his tongue. Wolfe tried to reach for Rune’s head, unsure if he was intending to try and stop him or urge him on, but his hands tangled and caught in the long skirts still covering his upper half, effectively restraining him. His legs kicked out and he writhed in the giant’s vice-like grip. 

Rune moaned around his cock and Wolfe felt a high, warbling cry echo from his own throat at the exquisite vibrations radiating through him. After being so emotional and pent up, he could tell his orgasm wasn’t far off, but he was loth to let Rune know. If he didn’t express his bliss, it was easier to pretend it truly was against his will. That he was just a poor, helpless Elbiyan prisoner being brutalised by a savage enemy brute. He tried to struggle again only to feel the pressure build then overflow in his groin, his cries wanton and distressed in equal measure as he came hard into Rune’s mouth.

Wolfe expected the giant to pull away and spit but instead he only sucked harder. He only relented when Wolfe’s legs trembled and his heart felt like it might burst from his chest.

“My turn now, Elbiya,” Rune said as he pulled off. “I’d say don’t fight me but I don’t think you’re in any state even if you tried.”

Dropping his legs so that they were spread once more around his waist, Rune leaned forward and pulled the skirts back to expose Wolfe’s sweaty, blissed-out face. The giant gave a wicked chuckle and grabbed him by the throat. Wolfe squeaked and raised his hands to try and fight him, but his grip was weak, his bones all hollow in the afterglow of his climax. Rune pinned him firmly enough that he couldn’t squirm away as he leaned in and pressed his cock against Wolfe’s hole again. Wolfe whimpered as he felt the giant working himself in his hand. He made a show of struggling, revelling in the thrills rushing under his skin, then felt the hot gush of the giant’s orgasm burst out and cover his hole. Wolfe gasped as Rune groaned and pressed the head of his cock more firmly against him, spreading his cum in its wake. 

Rune blew out a long breath through his lips, his eyes hooded and satisfied, then released Wolfe’s neck. Wolfe stayed where he was as the aftershocks of what they’d just done overtook him. He twitched and shuddered as Rune wiped his cum away with a rag and pulled his skirts back in place.

“How was that?” Rune asked, cleaning off his cock. “I wasn’t sure if you would still want to wait so I thought it safer to hold off on fucking you.”

He tossed the rag aside and threw himself down beside Wolfe, his thick, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Wolfe swallowed thickly and buried his face in the giant’s chest. For all his moans and pleasure mere moments earlier, he found himself suddenly shy. It had been better than he could’ve ever dreamed of. But to admit it out loud, somehow, he wasn’t sure.

“It was good,” he mumbled into Rune’s chest. The giant chuckled and ran his fingers lightly through Wolfe’s hair.

“Good,” he replied. 


	22. Chapter 22

Wolfe decided sometime in the evening that they should surface for supper. Rune insisted that his friends would gladly bring them food, but Wolfe’s conscience tugged at how distraught his mother had been earlier. He let the servants dress and paint him while Rune lounged by the door, watching with a small, satisfied smirk. Wolfe couldn’t help but glow under his future husband’s lustful attention. The rest of the day had been spent alternating between lazy, loving cuddles and rough trysts between the furs. Wolfe had never known how many things one could do without actually fucking, but Rune seemed to have no shortage of ideas. He let the giant guide him out to the dining hall with a faint stretch in his hips and a soft smile on his painted lips.

As soon as they reached the hall, his happy glow faded. Cerise was huddled on a chair next to Bethilde and Nannu. Nannu was silent, just eating and watching, while Bethilde spoke in an undertone to Cerise. As soon as his mother spotted them, she leapt to her feet and rushed over. Wolfe braced himself to be hugged. It was only at the last second that he realised Cerise’s coal black eyes were fixed on Rune, fury lighting them from within. She raised her hands and beat them against the giant’s chest as an unearthly scream ripped from her throat. Wolfe stumbled out of the way as she attacked.

“ _ You fucking savage! _ ” she shrieked. “How  _ dare _ you take my boy like that! After  _ everything _ , after you pretended to be so— so  _ honourable _ ! And then you drag him off and— and—”

“We could hear you two, a little bit.” Wolfe jumped at Nannu’s quiet voice beside him. “She was quite upset.”

Wolfe flushed and glanced in shock at Rune and his mother. For his part, the giant was not really fighting back, just craning his neck so Cerise’s wild fists wouldn’t land a blow on his face, but apart from that he let her rage at him. Cerise, on the other hand, was a mess. Her dark hair slipped more and more from its usually tidy bun with every blow, her face was pale and sallow with dark red blotches on her cheeks and her accusations quickly devolved into terrifying, wordless aggression. Wolfe had never seen his mother so upset. He rushed in quickly to separate them.

“Mother, I’m fine, he didn’t—”

Cerise yowled and shoved Wolfe away to renew her attack, her tiny fists beating against Rune’s broad, immovable chest in a chaotic, frenzied rhythm. Rune looked uneasy. Wolfe doubted he was getting hurt at all, but he could understand the giant’s indecision. A moment later, he made his face stern and grabbed Cerise by the wrists. Wolfe gasped and tried to step in again but Nannu held him back with a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. Rune leaned in and glared at Cerise.

“He is not just your boy anymore,” the giant growled. “He is mine to do with as I please.”

“My husband will flay you alive for what you’ve done!” she screamed. “He’ll castrate every one of you and hang your bodies out for the crows!”

“Your husband is a pompous fool so weak the donkey he rides is ashamed to bear him,” Rune spat back. “If he tries to castrate anyone it’s from envy.”

Cerise glared up at him with more venom than Wolfe could stand to look at. He sensed what was coming a moment before it happened. She pulled her head back and spat square in Rune’s face, then snarled defiantly up at him, as though daring him to react. Rune glowered back at her for a long, tense moment. The entire hall was so quiet Wolfe was surprised he couldn’t hear every heartbeat. He wished his mother would just listen, or at least submit so that Rune need not be forced to punish her. If it had to be then he knew the reasons, but he didn’t want them fighting at all, nor to see his mother suffer.

Finally, Rune scoffed, then shoved Cerise back a few feet. She stumbled and hissed and looked about to fly at him again. Bethilde caught her deftly under the arms to stop her stumbling, murmuring soothing words in her ears. Rune met Wolfe’s eye, huffing a little, and Wolfe hoped he could feel the endless well of gratitude flowing from him at the giant’s mercy. Rune wiped the spit from his face with his hand and twitched his eyebrow, the only sign that he’d noticed, then barked something in Murkuri and walked from the hall, Tryg and Ariete following after him.

Meanwhile, Bethilde had succeeded in soothing Cerise enough that she was now sobbing instead of raging. She trembled in the warrior’s arms, her eyes dull and vacant. Wolfe went to her as soon as Rune had left. He pulled her from Bethilde and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her hair and shushing her, rubbing her back and holding her tight. She sobbed and trembled in his arms.

“My baby… my poor baby…” she cried. Wolfe stroked her hair and pressed a kiss into her forehead, his heart heavy.

“I’m alright, Mother, I promise, I’m fine,” he insisted. “Let’s go sit down.”

Shaking and sobbing, his mother let him lead her back to where she’d been seated, Bethilde and Nannu returning with them. Wolfe held her until she’d calmed enough to pull away, then let her dark, worried eyes rake over him, searching for evidence of her worst fears come to life. Wolfe tried not to squirm under her scrutiny. He and Rune, and possibly Tryg, knew that what they’d gotten up to was more like a game than anything else. A risky game, perhaps, but ultimately harmless. But if Cerise had overheard so much as one scream, it was no wonder she was in such a state. It was hard not to feel guilty and just blurt it all out to her, everything from his growing attraction to the giant to the secret book and more. But he managed to hold it in. If nothing else, his mother was in no state to hear it. 

“He didn’t hurt me,” Wolfe told her instead, keeping his tone soft and reassuring. “Not really. I’m okay.”

Cerise’s lip trembled. She sniffled, her eyes still watery, then nodded and clasped his hand. He squeezed it and shuffled a little closer to her on the bench.

“He’s such a brute,” she muttered. “I don’t know how you tolerate him, darling, no man is easy to be with but he is… just... “

“Mother, he’s not,” Wolfe tried. “You know he’s not. Please. And… well, I don’t think men are really so bad…”

Cerise furrowed her brow, sobs still occasionally running through her, then she suddenly stiffened.

“Oh! No, darling, I didn’t m-mean you,” she hiccuped. “You’re quite lovely really. Clean and p-polite.” She sniffed again. “Any woman would be lucky to wed you.”

“Indeed,” Bethilde piped up. Both Wolfe and Cerise blinked in surprise. Wolfe had entirely forgotten the Murkuri by them. “No man is a pleasure to bed, but in your dresses you are quite palatable, Elbiya.”

Nannu smacked Bethilde across the shoulder and scowled, but Bethilde only grinned, unconcerned. Cerise gave a little sniff and glared at her.

“Men are not supposed to be pleasant,” she said stiffly. “But Wolfe is not like them. He’s lovely.”

“I still wouldn’t bed him,” Bethilde shot back. “Even in his lovely dresses.”

“I don’t think he’d want to bed you either,” Nannu said. “He is promised to Rune.”

“And he is bearing that burden with dignity, as he should,” Cerise decreed, eyeing both Murkuri with stern eyes even as her hands still trembled. “But of course he would prefer a woman.”

“Would you prefer me, Elbiya?” Bethilde asked, leaning so that Wolfe could catch better sight of her. “It sounds as though your mother does.”

Wolfe watched in shocked awe as his mother spluttered and glared at Bethilde, the warrior grinning back at her with cool detachment.

“It’s alright, Elbiya,” Bethilde continued. “We all know you ladies prefer to surround yourselves with other ladies. Here, we can summon Krig to join us and perhaps you will feel more at home.”

Cerise huffed and shifted in her seat as though unsure how to respond. Wolfe knew it was true that most Elbiyan ladies went few places without their handmaidens, but the Murkuri women were the furthest thing from the delicate, modest retinues of Elbiya. Bethilde whistled and called to Krig. She was sitting a table over with Adunn, Artux and a few Wolfe didn’t know, a large mug of mead in her hand and her typical scowl on her face. She glowered at Bethilde and called back.

“Really, this is most unnecessary,” Cerise huffed. 

“Perhaps, but I wish to be a gracious host in Rune’s absence.” Bethilde winked and Wolfe was shocked to see his mother colour faintly in her cheeks. He moved a little closer to her, unsure of where the conversation was going. She put her arm around him comfortingly and patted his shoulder as Krig finally rose and came to join them. She scowled as one of the other warriors made a comment, then turned and drew her blade, arguing back. Cerise hugged Wolfe a little tighter at the display. 

After a minute Krig turned back to them and sat, twirling her blade. 

“Could you put that away, please?” Cerise asked immediately.

Krig glanced at her, then shook her head. Bethilde tutted and smacked her on the shoulder.

“Come now, Krig,” she said. “We are trying to put her at ease. She even asked politely.”

Krig muttered something in Murkuri under her breath but then obliged, sheathing her knife. She glanced at Wolfe and Cerise.

“Have either of you any experience with blades?” she asked. Wolfe shook his head.

“Of course not,” Cerise scoffed, prim and proper. “Have you any experience running a household?”

Krig scowled but didn’t answer. Wolfe still couldn’t shake his terror of the dark-haired warrior, but Nannu and Bethilde seemed unaffected. 

“I shall go fetch Wolfe some food, as it seems Rune has abandoned him,” Nannu muttered. “Try not to challenge his mother to a duel before I return.”

Cerise pursed her lips and sniffed, but Bethilde laughed.

“Don’t worry, lady,” she said as Nannu moved away. “I would gladly fight Krig in your place for you.”

“Hmph.” Cerise fixed Bethilde with a cool glare. “Well I should certainly hope so, given you’re the reason she is here.”

Bethilde grinned. 

“I am, am I?”

Wolfe tried not to fret as Nannu brought him a plate. With any luck, Rune would return soon to distract them all from whatever confusing tug-of-war Bethilde had decided to engage in with his mother.

Rune returned by the time he was almost finished eating. He came to a halt in front of their table and sighed. By Wolfe’s side, Cerise was stiff as a board, her hands trembling. Wolfe put his arm around her and stared nervously up at his future husband. Rune had been far kinder earlier than he should have been, but Wolfe didn’t know if he would have calmed in his time away or gotten angrier.

“We will sleep in a separate room tonight,” Rune told him. “We have made it ready.”

Wolfe gave his mother a quick hug then slipped from his seat and hurried to join Rune, grateful that he would not witness any more hostility between them. Cerise reached for him as he left but didn’t complete the gesture.

“Bethilde, I am assigning care of Lady Cerise to you and Artux during my  _ volan’uk _ with Wolfe,” Rune continued. “Though it will be short. We return to Tithdale the day after tomorrow so the priests can cast their spells.”

Cerise cast a nervous glance at Bethilde, but Wolfe was relieved. He was quite confident Bethilde was the best choice to guard his mother. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced Bethilde had deliberately instigated the banter to distract Cerise from her shock, and to a degree it had succeeded in that. Wolfe still felt a slight tug at his heart as he followed Rune to their new room. For all that she had caused some trouble, Wolfe couldn’t blame his mother for how she behaved. 

“Thank you for being so kind to her,” he said to Rune as they climbed the stairs. “I know you were within your rights to beat her, most likely.”

Rune frowned at him, then sighed.

“It’s no trouble,” he replied. “But I realise now we should have discussed how to behave before we left the other hall today. I’m unsure how to treat you in front of your people. I tried to keep it short.”

Wolfe chewed his lip and nodded. It would be even more difficult once they returned, not only for Rune but for himself as well. 

“I agree,” he said. “I didn’t realise they could hear us.”

His cheeks burned at the memory of the realisation, even though there was technically no shame on him if his mother believed him unwilling. Rune reached for his waist at the top of the stairs and pulled him close as they walked.

“It is complicated,” he agreed. “In Murku I would consider it a challenge for your hand if anyone confronted me so. Only a warrior would dare. We would have fought in the yard to the death. But I don’t want to beat her, either. I want the others to respect her as my mother-in-law. No molestation. No disrespect. They would not do so if I treated her as a common prisoner.”

Wolfe’s heart swelled with joy at Rune’s words and he stopped to wrap his arms around him in a delighted hug. Rune chuckled and returned the embrace, pressing soft kisses against his head.

“We can discuss it in the morning perhaps,” Rune said. “For now, our  _ volan _ bed awaits.”

Wolfe pulled back and nodded, smiling, and let Rune lead him on. The giant stopped him a few paces from the door.

“Wait,” he said. “Close your eyes. I want it to surprise you.”

Wolfe smiled wider and obeyed, covering his hands with his eyes. He heard Rune lift the latch on the door before him and tried to suppress his excitement as the giant took him by the shoulders and guided him towards their  _ volan _ bed, whatever it was.

  
  



	23. Chapter 23

Wolfe was briefly concerned he might trip on the door frame, but Rune’s gentle guidance helped him avoid it. He couldn’t contain his excited smile as Rune bade him stop but keep his eyes closed. Something sweet and smokey met his nose, along with a strange hush that settled over him as the scent enveloped his senses.

“Rune, please, I’ll die of anticipation,” he teased.

He heard the giant breathe a chuckle to his left and turned his head in the direction of the sound.

“Alright,” Rune agreed. “But look straight ahead. You’re right in front of it.”

Wolfe took his hands from his eyes and faced forwards before opening them. When he did, the smile dropped from his face as he took in the sight. Rune hovered close, watching.

“What is it?” the giant asked. “You don’t like it?”

Wolfe gaped, struggling to fully articulate how he felt about what he was looking at. They’d somehow moved the master bed out of the master bedroom, its wide, comfy mattress wrapped in fresh sheets and a thick blanket he didn’t recognise. By the broad stitches and symbols emblazoned on it, he knew it must be a Murkuri custom. It was dyed red in some parts, raw linen in others, with fine gold thread picking out the crude forms of various animals, plants and symbols. 

But that wasn’t all. In the hours Wolfe had spent with Bethilde and his mother, the Murkuri had decorated the entire room. What felt like every flower in the forest had been plucked and braided and strung from the walls and ceilings, others coiled on the pillows and hanging from the four poster bed. A vase of red, yellow and white flowers sat on the bedside table next to an assortment of bottles, jars and bowls. They’d also dragged in a heavy iron brazier and lit a handful of coals. The sweet smoke that billowed from the grains of incense sitting on it hung in the air and caught on the rays of sunlight that filtered in through the windows. The overall effect was close and cozy, soothing and somehow arousing all at once. 

“I love it.” Wolfe’s voice came out thick and choked over emotion he hadn’t realised was bubbling. “It’s… it’s so beautiful.”

Rune breathed an audible sigh of relief and Wolfe looked at him. He hadn’t noticed before, but the warrior must have washed. His beard looked neater and his skin was absent of the thin layer of grime and ash that tended to build up from being around open fires and candles.

“May I wrap you in the  _ threnn _ … the, um, special blanket?” he asked. 

Wolfe nodded, struck dumb and struggling not to cry. Rune pulled the blanket from the bed and approached, murmuring in Murkuri as he did so. Wolfe watched him approach with baited breath. There was something almost reverent in Rune’s manner. He extended the blanket between his hands and walked a slow half-circle around Wolfe, then laid the blanket on his shoulders. Wolfe clutched at it and pulled it tight around himself.

“Will you do something for me?” Rune's voice was a low, husky whisper, sending shivers down Wolfe’s spine that settled in his cock and made his skin feel electric and alive. “Will you say,  _ ‘af’aran til ghee naran’ _ ?”

Wolfe smiled, tears rimming his eyes, and repeated the words as best he could. When he was done, Rune pressed a deep, sensual kiss against his mouth. Wolfe stifled a moan and brought his arms up to wrap around Rune’s shoulders, then squeaked when he felt himself lifted off the floor, breaking the kiss.

“We should’ve done this the first day,” Rune muttered. “I wish we could have the full half-moon together.” He threw Wolfe to the bed and crawled on top of him. “We might have to run away somewhere together after the wedding, just to get our time’s worth.”

Wolfe writhed in ecstasy beneath the giant as he spoke. The smoke seemed to get sweeter by the second and the heady scent made his entire body ache with desire. He shoved the blanket off and clutched at his dress, thwarted by Rune’s knee on the skirts, and he made a warbling noise of complaint.

“I need to be naked,” he gasped. “I need it, oh gods, Rune, you too.”

Rune blinked in surprise but quickly obliged, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand and untying his laced up trousers with the other while Wolfe wrestled with his chemise.

“I want it too.” The giant’s cock sprung fully erect from his trousers the minute it was free. “I want you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Wolfe hissed as he finally freed himself of the cloying cloth. “Throw me down and take me.”

His head was spinning as he pushed the chemise aside and he leapt to his feet. Even standing on the bed he was barely taller than Rune, but for once he barely noticed. Without his clothes and away from prying eyes, he was filled with a wild, frenzied desire, and he knew for certain only the giant’s cock would satisfy him. He launched himself at Rune and clung on, groaning at the exquisite intensity of his body finally making full, unencumbered contact with Rune. 

“Niv’s balls,” Rune muttered, shocked. “I… okay, I will do as you want, but we need to open the window, Wolfe, the smoke—”

“Rune, fuck me, please,” Wolfe whined. “My body— ah, I need it, I—”

“Alright.” Rune’s tone was soothing and Wolfe felt like purring, despite the strange note on the edge of his tone. “Will you suck my cock first?”

As soon as Rune suggested it, Wolfe could think of nothing else. Rune stepped back to let him sink to his knees and he was already leaning in when Rune caught him by the hair to stop him.

“Go slow, lover,” he said. “We have plenty of time.”

Wolfe nodded, impatient, and made a soft noise of delight when Rune released him. The giant held his cock by the base and Wolfe leaned in, revelling in the feel of it on his cheek. He dragged his lips over it and couldn’t even remember why he’d been nervous of it to begin with. It smelled hot and musky, faint soap lingering but by no means overpowering the scent of pure Rune. Wolfe traced the head with his tongue and was almost too caught up in the taste to notice Rune’s shaky exclamation above him. He couldn’t help the ecstatic moan bubbling in his throat as he opened his mouth and took as much of it in as he could.

“Ah, fuck, Wolfe—” Rune sounded hoarse. “Not too fast or I’ll cum too soon.”

That sounded absolutely perfect to Wolfe. He wanted all of it, in his mouth, on his face, all over him, and he sucked with more vigour. He barely noticed the faint scrape of the window as he tried to take more of Rune into him, coming up short just for the length and girth of it. His jaw already ached from the stretch of having so much in his mouth. If not for Rune grabbing him by the hair again he might easily have forgotten to breathe.

“Come to the bed,” Rune said before Wolfe could protest the sudden deficit of cock in his mouth. “Your mouth feels too good, I can barely stand.”

He let the giant drag him over to the bed and found himself on his back, spreading his legs, as Rune joined him. The giant grinned and pressed kisses into his mouth and cheeks.

“I had no idea you felt like this,” he murmured. 

“I’ve wanted your cock since that first night,” Wolfe told him. “I think about it so much, I just want to touch it, all the time.”

Rune nuzzled at his neck and let his hand trail down Wolfe’s front. The giant’s hand spanned almost from one side to the other with his fingers spread. Wolfe gasped and pressed up into the contact with unashamed joy, grabbing Rune’s wrist with both hands to direct him where it felt best. Rune let him push and pull his hand around. Wolfe glanced at him with hazy eyes and saw a look of such pure love in Rune’s deep, dark eyes that he paused and stared. Rune met his eye and his face cracked into a slow, soft smile.

“I’m so in love with you.” Wolfe didn’t even realise he was speaking until Rune blinked in surprise, but he knew without a doubt that it was true the moment it left his mouth. He rolled and pressed himself against Rune with every ounce of his strength. “I love you so much.”

Rune wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. 

“I love you too,” the warrior replied. “Gods, I’ve loved you since almost the moment I saw you. I’d fight a thousand contenders for your hand.”

Wolfe tried to hold him tighter, cursing his own lack of body strength after years of focusing on scrolls instead of combat, but instead just found himself grinding against Rune’s body. He remembered what they’d been doing right before coming to the bed.

“I need your cock,” he gasped, pushing away and diving for it. Rune made a strangled sound as Wolfe found his target.

For several minutes he was too consumed with what he was doing to pay attention to anything else. Rune’s cock felt smooth and hard against his face with just enough give at the head that he couldn’t help but put it in his mouth and suck. Rune hissed and muttered in Murkuri at the sensation. He shifted slightly and Wolfe clung on, wrapping one arm around the giant’s thigh to keep himself in place. Rune chuckled and put a hand on the small of his back to keep him steady as he moved.

“I had no idea you were so eager,” the warrior murmured. “The smoke is clearing but I hope you stay like this.”

Wolfe hadn’t the faintest idea what he meant but he didn’t care. He had never felt so aroused in his life. Every inch of him throbbed with wanton fire and he couldn’t stop running his fingers over the thick length of Rune’s shaft as he sucked. 

Rune finally stopped moving and Wolfe could focus properly again. The giant was on his back, legs slightly spread to allow Wolfe better access, and Wolfe was laying partially on top of him with his head in Rune’s crotch. He didn’t even care that all Rune would be able to see of him was his arse and legs. If anything he hoped the giant was looking. The thought of his future husband watching and wanting him, knowing it was mere days until he’d claim him, sent a tremor of excited anticipation through every nerve in his body. He only realised he’d been rutting against Rune’s side when the giant gripped him by the thighs and lifted him away. Wolfe made a plaintive noise, his mouth still full of cock, but Rune wasn’t depriving him for long. He deposited Wolfe fully on top of him, spreading his legs so that one lay on either side of Rune’s head.

“Don’t bite me,” Rune warned.

Wolfe would have scoffed if he could, because why would anyone ever bite such a precious, glorious appendage? But the next moment he jumped as he felt the giant’s thumb against his hole and he understood. As it was, he only jolted forwards and choked himself on Rune’s cock. It felt beyond good, but he supposed he still did need to breathe and Rune clearly wanted him in a specific position, namely spread wide and accessible. The giant pulled him back so he could continue rubbing and pressing at his entrance. The threat of being entered maee Wolfe’s cock ache and weep beads of precum. He ground his hips with chaotic intent, trying to press back into Rune’s fingers and relieve himself against the giant’s chest whilst not conceding a single millimetre of the cock in his mouth. 

It seemed impossible. 

Every time he found relief with one, the other two screamed for attention. He felt tears equal parts erotic pleasure and frustration gather in his eyes as he tried to make his muddled thoughts figure out how to satisfy himself. Luckily, as though sensing his distress, Rune took his fingers away for the briefest of moments and returned them soaked in oil and far more insistent. Wolfe’s whole body trembled as Rune found his entrance and put pressure against it. All of his attention rounded on his hole and he even stopped sucking the cock in his mouth to focus, mounting anticipation bordering on too much tingling beneath his skin.

Then he felt Rune’s finger slip inside him and it was as though his mind stopped working as he struggled to come to terms with the sensation.

“Ah, you’re so tight,” Rune murmured, and a thrill of pleasure ran through Wolfe’s core at the implied approval.

At first he couldn’t tell if it hurt or not. He’d been dreading penetration for so long, expecting pain beyond what he’d ever experienced. Rune’s finger was thick and he was hyper aware of being breached but, with the oil and the slow, shallow movements, he realised it just felt strange. The stretch was less of a searing agony and more like a delicious burn. His body thrummed with ecstasy as Rune pushed in further and his legs went weak and hollow.

While his rational mind pondered over the nature of the intrusion, his body was in no doubt. The deeper Rune went the more the pressure built behind his balls and he was suddenly aware of moaning. Rune was making noise too, low breaths just shy of groans, and his hips rutted in short, controlled thrusts into Wolfe’s slack mouth. Wolfe sank into the overwhelming pleasure of every sound and sensation until he felt the tide rise and he was swept up in the waves of euphoria engulfing every inch of him. He came with a long, low cry, muffled on Rune’s cock, and barely noticed the giant grabbing the base of his own shaft as he zoned in and out in its wake.

“Pulling it out now,” Rune muttered. “I need to… ahh…”

Wolfe couldn’t help how his hole clenched as Rune tried to withdraw. The way Rune’s finger felt in the midst of his muscle sent residual tingles up and down his spine. Rune finally managed to detach and Wolfe’s hole clenched further, a sense of what had happened lingering in the slick of oil and the memory of the stretch.

He didn’t resist as Rune pulled his cock out of his mouth, a tendril of saliva connecting between his reddened lips and the rosy head. Rune took no time at all to work himself to climax. Wolfe gave a faint smile as the giant’s cum splashed from the tip and ran down his shaft, a couple of drops landing on his cheek. The lazy haze of satisfaction that settled over him as Rune clutched at rags and cleaned them up was only topped by the warmth of the blanket that Rune wrapped around them once he’d pulled Wolfe up to lay against his chest. He thought he heard Rune begin to say something, but his drowsy mind barely registered it as he pressed his face in the giant’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These few chapters, idk, I like them but mostly because it's the breather before things get fucked up again. I'm writing them about 6 chapters ahead but I don't have a solid bullet point outline or anything so we're on a bit of a journey.


	24. Chapter 24

Wolfe awoke peaceful and content before the sun had fully risen the next morning. He and Rune were both still nude, the giant waking a few minutes after he did and rolling to envelop him in a lazy hug. Either Rune had gotten up after he slept or someone else had been in the room, Wolfe realised, since the window was firmly closed and latched to preserve them from the early morning chill. 

Memories of the night before were hazy, but Wolfe remembered enough to know that he had behaved in a manner he was trying not to feel ashamed of. He pressed himself into Rune’s broad, strong body and tried to convince himself that it was alright, given that Rune would soon be his husband. The giant pressed warm kisses into his face and lips, though Wolfe could sense something hesitant about his attitude. Hesitant, or… disinterested? Wolfe tried not to be too nervous as memories of brides-to-be shamed and set aside for wantonness in anticipation of their nuptials surfaced in his mind. 

“Wolfe?” Rune sounded cautious. “Are you alright?”

Wolfe nodded quickly and tried to smile, pulling the blanket closer around himself. Rune nodded in return but his brows still knit in concern.

“About yesterday…” the giant began, and Wolfe felt sobs rising in his throat.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, jumping in before Rune could finish. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Rune’s eyes widened in surprise and for a moment he seemed at a loss for words.

“Wolfe, no, that’s not…” He paused, sighing. “I should be apologising to you. Though, admittedly, I wasn’t aware it could have that effect… even so. The smoke from the brazier yesterday, it’s…”

Rune paused again and frowned. Wolfe knew he was likely just searching for the right words in a language not his mother tongue but it still made him anxious. He pressed in closer and put his arm over Rune’s chest as he waited.

“The smoke is part of the  _ volan’uk _ rituals,” Rune said at length. “It’s intended to be inhaled as part of the… uhm… the clearing? In their weeks of seclusion, the couple must discuss all their problems together and reach solutions. The smoke is made by a  _ mur-padiiri _ like Bethilde to promote affection and honesty. It does also encourage intimacy, though usually not so… intensely…”

Wolfe felt his face heating up as Rune mentioned the wild ferocity with which he’d gone for Rune’s body. To distract himself, he forced his mind to latch onto the new foreign word.

“What’s a…  _ mur-padiiri _ ?” he asked. “I thought Bethilde was a warrior.”

“She is,” Rune agreed. “But she is other than the rest of us as well. Her path is adjacent to the gods. It’s complicated to explain, but in this instance she is similar to your priests. The smoke is a religious item.”

Wolfe made a soft ‘ah’ in response, then fell silent as he mulled over the potential ramifications of what he’d just learned. If nothing else, he realised, it didn’t quite explain his rabid arousal yesterday… unless…

Wolfe looked up at Rune in shock and realised the giant had gone through the same thought process by the sly grin he wore.

“I had no idea you felt so strongly for me, bride.” Rune sounded pleased beyond measure. “There is much fire beneath your cold Elbiyan morals, it seems.”

Wolfe scowled to cover his embarrassment, but he couldn’t deny that it was true. How often had he caught himself staring with longing at the giant’s chiseled jaw and muscled body? And, in his absence, he had ached worse than he could’ve dreamed. He glanced over at the brazier and saw it was cold, the embers long since extinguished.

“Do we have to do it again?” he asked.

“No, of course not,” Rune replied. “We are not following the  _ volan’uk _ as strictly as we would in Murku. I think once will have to do.”

Wolfe nodded and settled against Rune’s shoulder again. The giant locked his arms around him and for a few minutes Wolfe was content to enjoy the silent contact. He thought back again over his antics the night before. The sexual stuff was… well, he couldn’t quite decide where he stood on that. He’d been close enough to spreading his legs and begging Rune to fuck him that he couldn’t quite bring himself to think too much about the physical acts. Beyond those, though, there had been more. He’d told Rune that he loved him… and the giant had said it back. His heart lit with gleeful warmth as he remembered. He shot Rune a careful glance.

“So… the smoke,” he began, continuing when Rune nodded and raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t force anything, does it? Everything yesterday… it’s more like… what I wanted but wouldn’t admit?”

Rune grinned and nodded.

“That’s the idea, yes,” he agreed. “Though I confess I’ve never heard of it having quite such a strong effect sexually. But, most who perform these rituals are Murkuri. We have our faults as a nation but hiding how we feel is not one of them. Usually it just encourages the couple to talk without coming to blows.”

Wolfe nodded. That certainly seemed to answer his question, but he still found himself unsure. The priests in Elbiyan temples had plenty of access to the gods but rarely shared it. Their job was to interpret the gods’ will and relay it to the people so that none could be excused from following divine will. Faced with a culture whose priests fought alongside the common rabble and granted magic to every couple before their wedding, he found himself cautious but also brimming with questions. But he didn’t want to be disrespectful. 

Meanwhile, Rune watched his face and seemed to be trying to decipher him. His dark hazel eyes were serious and thoughtful as he waited for Wolfe to speak. After a few moments, though, Wolfe decided it was best not to ask. He hid his face against Rune’s neck and tried to focus on the intoxicating scent of his skin instead of the dizzying myriad of thoughts threatening to storm his mind.

“I do love you, if that’s what you were wondering,” Rune murmured. “That was no lie, nor created by the smoke.”

Wolfe froze. His heart swelled and he realised how badly he’d wanted to hear that, though his mind had fixated on the enticing mystery of Murkuri culture. He pulled back and found Rune staring at him with peaceful affection in his eyes. He couldn’t find his voice for so long that Rune continued.

“And there was something else I wanted to tell you, too, since I do think we should be open and honest with each other…”

“I love you too.”

“Hm?” 

Rune’s tone was casual but Wolfe thought he saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, a sudden sharpening and dilating of his pupils before he hid it once more. Wolfe’s heart ached knowing that his own behaviour was the reason that Rune was now wary, despite still treating him well.

“I love you,” Wolfe repeated. “I do. I… I’m glad that I’m going to marry you.”

Despite his composure, Rune couldn’t hide the deep emotion that lit his face. He pulled Wolfe closer and pressed their lips together in a slow, sensual kiss. Wolfe melted into it and let the giant coax his mouth open with deft swipes of his tongue. Rune easily took the lead and Wolfe succumbed to the gentle invasion of his mouth with heady glee. Rune’s skilled tongue and lips found every sensitive part of him and teased with just the right amount of pressure until Wolfe was breathless with pleasure. He pulled away to give himself some respite and found his cock beginning to harden. 

Rune glanced down as Wolfe adjusted himself and smiled, twitching as Wolfe’s fingers accidentally brushed his cock as he sorted out his own. Wolfe glowed at the realisation that the simple kiss had had a similar effect on the giant. He snuggled in and got comfortable on Rune’s shoulder, forcing himself not to quell the growing happiness in his chest.

“What were you saying?” he asked, making Rune chuckle.

“You asked me before why I chose you,” he replied. “And I said that it was for Kolbu, and to spare you suffering.”

“I remember.”

“There was another reason…” Rune hesitated, making Wolfe glance up at his face. The young lord was shocked to see his future husband looking sheepish. “You said that you only wanted to lay with one person for the rest of your life. Perhaps I misunderstood, but it seemed you would prefer that. I would prefer it too.”

Wolfe remembered the strange look Rune had given him over that first nightmarish feast when he’d spoken up against Kolbu. It had been a long shot at best. Looking back, Wolfe wasn’t even sure what he’d hoped to achieve. The Murkuri wouldn’t care one way or another. They’d raped and murdered their way from the coast with no mercy, and Rune had confirmed that no other warrior would have preserved his innocence for so long. Even Rune was not above plundering his body when it suited him. Those first couple of days before he’d begun to submit could have gone very differently. He remembered Kolbu’s question that first day on the bed.  _ Have you decided yet if you’ll share him... _

“I only want you,” Wolfe told him. “No one else holds any appeal for me.”

“Mm. And do you also want me to forgo other partners?”

Wolfe hesitated. He’d assumed that rule would only apply to him, given that most Elbiyan husbands paid little heed to their vows. Women might not need to care about such things. From what his mother had said, it was actually considered preferable if a man sowed his seed in his wife for heirs and then sought greener pastures once the fruit matured. Children and the law of the gods made safe a woman’s place. But he could not bear children. And, by the sounds of it, Murkuri marriage made no demands of monogamy on either party in most circumstances. If Rune was willing to swear off other partners then he might be safe even without the safety of motherhood to protect him.

On the other hand, if Rune eventually tired of him and felt honour-bound to keep his word, then only death would release him from his promise. That he might be about to doom himself far off in the future weighed heavily on Wolfe as he tried to figure out the right thing to say.

“Wolfe?” Rune shook him gently. “Do we need to burn more  _ arifal _ powder? It is a simple question. Just tell me what you want.”

“I don’t know,” Wolfe sobbed. “I… I love you, and I don’t want you laying with others, but… what if… one day, what if you regret it? What then?”

Rune frowned. He unwound his arms from around Wolfe and sat up, the blanket falling to cover only his lower half. Wolfe sat up with him and tried not to focus on the fact that the giant’s chest alone was twice as broad as him.

“I would not put you aside,” Rune assured him. “I know what it is I’m agreeing to. I want it. With you.”

“We’ve only known each other a week,” Wolfe said. “And half of it we spent apart. How do you know?”

Rune shrugged and scratched his chest. 

“I don’t need to know you well,” he said. “I know myself. I honour my word in all things. I am making a commitment to you, I intend to carry it out in practice and in spirit. Besides, we have already come so far. I expected to have to beat you before fucking you on our wedding day and yet look at us now with seven days to spare. Whatever obstacles come, I have faith in us to clear them.”

Wolfe stared up at Rune with a mixture of awe and disbelief. No matter how his mind churned, he could find no fault in what the giant said, or at least none that would hold water. He wanted to believe it so badly. And yet…

“What about if you decide you want children?” Wolfe blinked back tears and tried to hold Rune’s gaze, though his eyes burned and he could feel himself beginning to tremble. “I cannot give them to you.”

“What do you mean?”

Wolfe found himself crying without warning, frustration and anxiety combining and twisting his heart. 

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? I’m not a woman! I… I don’t have a womb, I can’t—”

“I know,” Rune replied. “But that does not preclude us from having children. We are in a war, there will no doubt be many orphans. Or, if you prefer them to be of our blood, Bethilde knows the rituals, as does Skarde, and I’m sure others.”

Wolfe opened his mouth to argue, still crying, but came up stumped. Rituals? He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know what those might be, but he could see Rune was serious. Before he could order his thoughts, though, the giant continued.

“I am not much interested in children just yet though,” he said. “I might never be. I do not see the appeal. They cry and shit and will not let you sleep, and that’s just at the beginning. I don’t want to stop going out and fighting for as many years as that for quite some time.”

Wolfe’s confusion only rose. As the wife, if they had no staff, it would be his job to raise the children. Rune need not alter his life at all. As many times before, though, he had the sense of having run up against a divide in their respective cultures too large to bridge without considerable effort. He fell silent and sniffled.

“Come here, Wolfe,” Rune said after a moment. Wolfe shot him a tearful glance, then had no choice but to obey as the giant leaned in and swept him up. He let Rune hold him close and rested his head on the broad, tanned shoulder offered to him. “How many times must I tell and show you that you are safe? I will not put you aside, no matter what may come.”

Wolfe cuddled in closer to him, soothed but still wishing he could believe the warrior’s promises wholeheartedly. 

“My mother said—”

“Hmm, I bet she did,” Rune muttered. “Perhaps it is time I spoke to her properly. I see how much she means to you, but she cannot continue acting as though I am your enemy unless I am to treat her as one too.”

Wolfe swallowed thickly.

“Don’t hurt her,” he begged.

“I won’t.” Rune pressed a kiss into his crown and adjusted his arm around him. “Just follow my lead, and we will soon sort things out.”

Wolfe nodded, already planning what he would say to try and diffuse the situation if things got heated. Rune gave him a gentle shake.

“Wolfe. I will handle it,” he said. 

Wolfe blinked and stared at him. Rune’s tone was usually soft and kind with him, but there was no mistaking the authority lacing his words, turning them into something of an order, albeit a gentle one. He struggled between wanting so desperately to just hand over all his responsibility and the creeping anxiety that if he didn’t intervene it would all turn to chaos as Rune set his jaw and waited on a reply.

“Alright,” Wolfe finally agreed. “I’ll… I’ll follow your lead.”

Rune smiled and held him close again, and Wolfe tried to believe everything would be alright, if only for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've realised lately that this story is slowing down, because there's only two major things left to resolve, and two minor things. However, with the last chapter, whenever that may be, I will post the final chapter, the epilogue, and the first chapter of the next story all on the same Tuesday. So three chapters in one day.
> 
> The next story will focus on Ariete and will be less wholesome but still not properly dark by my standards. More secondhand angst, a less likeable pairing and both rougher and more frequent smut. Probably slightly shorter too, though that depends entirely on my muse as I still have not written an outline, just the first three chapters so far.
> 
> Leaf and Wolfe are, I would say, around a 1/5 on the dark to wholesome scale within this world. Ariete's story will be more like a 2/5. There will most likely only be one 5/5 story in the 14 or so that I have in my timeline, about 3 more that are 1/5, and the rest somewere in the mid range. However, especially if you are a regular commenter, do let me know which direction your tastes run in terms of noncon, dubcon, torture, kidnapping, etc. I will probably never write MCD or entirely unhappy endings but other than that I do enjoy variety and I enjoy the communal aspect of posting my stuff here so I'm interested to hear your thoughts and accommodate your tastes as well as my own. 
> 
> That said, we do probably have at least 6-8 more weeks of Wolfe, if not more lol so it's not urgent by any stretch. And of course Leaf, Wolfe, Rune and Artux will feature at various points in the comic and other stories semi-frequently as well. Thank you for reading and commenting! Tuesday has become my favourite day thanks to hanging out with all of you in the comments and I'm very glad to know you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side-story to my original m/m comic [KOLBU](www.nefsferaatu.com), set shortly after the events of the comic. I update it Tuesdays and Thursdays on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/nefsferaatu) as well as on the website, and you can find other links to support me and these stories there too if you feel so inclined. You can also now ask me things on [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.qa/nefsferaatu).


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